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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

Estate  of  Evalyn  Thomas 


MEMOIRS    OF 
i  E     COURT    OF     CHARLES     II 

BY     COUNT    P*     GRAMONT 


With  a   Spe 
and  I 


'reduction 


aes  .q— 


«tot'i\ 


o  RK 

p     F  E  R     &     S  O  N 

PUBLISHERS 


THESE    FAMILIARITIES 
MAKING    LITTLE    JENNINGS    FORGET 

THE    PART    SHE    WAS    ACTING, 

AFTER    HAVING    PUSHED    HIM    AWAY 

WITH    ALL    THE    VIOLENCE    SHE    WAS    ABLE, 

SHE    TOLD    HIM    WITH    INDIGNATION 
THAT    IT    WAS    VERY    INSOLENT    TO    DARE 

—p.  298 
From  the  painting  by  V.  Delort 


MEMOIRS    OF 
THE     COURT     OF     CHARLES     II 

BY     COUNT    DE    GRAMONT 

With  a   Special  Introduction 
and  Illustrations 


NEW    YORK 

P     F     COLLIER     &     SON 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright  1910 
BY  P.  F.  COLLIER  &  SON 


College 
library 


nio 


INTRODUCTION 

RATHER  curiously,  these  "Memoirs"  of  a  French- 
man were  written  by  an  Englishman  in  the  French 
language,  their  largest  portion  being  devoted  to  the 
gay  doings  of  English  courtiers  in  England  during  the 
reign  of  Charles  II. 

Philibert,  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  born  in  1621, 
was  the  younger  son  of  the  French  duke  of  that  name. 
Like  most  European  younger  sons,  he  had  to  depend 
chiefly  upon  his  natural  gifts  for  advancement.  Des- 
tined for  the  Church,  he  early  revolted  against  that 
and  devoted  himself  to  the  careers  of  the  army  and  the 
Court  —  in  brief,  to  a  life  of  gallantry,  in  all  the  senses 
of  that  word. 

Notably  handsome,  of  high  birth,  brilliantly  witty, 
gay  under  all  circumstances,  fertile  in  story,  sport,  or 
genial  talk,  keen  and  merrily  unscrupulous  in  gaming, 
attractive  to  and  attracted  by  women  of  high  and  low 
degree,  and  indomitably  courageous,  his  early  army 
service  under  the  great  Generals  Conde  and  Turenne 
opened  to  him  a  career  of  adventure.  He  was  admired 
as  a  soldier,  prized  as  a  comrade,  popular  everywhere  ; 
so  that  when  he  returned  from  camp  to  Court  he  was 
an  instant  favourite.  From  King  Louis  XIV.  down  to 
the  lackeys,  every  one  sought  to  please  him  and  for- 
ward his  fortunes.  These  dazzling  successes  seem  to 
have  turned  his  head  somewhat,  since  he  was  venture- 
some enough  to  make  love  to  one  of  the  King's  own 
favourites,  and  early  in  1662  was  banished. 

Before  this,  De  Gramont  had  visited  the  English 

1  —  Memoirs  3  VoL  4 


4  INTRODUCTION 

Court  during  Cromwell's  Protectorate,  and  had  found 
it  exceedingly  dull.  But  Charles  II.  was  now  in  power, 
and  the  liveliness,  festivities,  and  social  laxities  of  the 
Court  of  the  Restoration  offered  him  a  congenial  ref- 
uge, and  he  betook  himself  thither. 

Of  course,  so  blithe  and  attractive  a  cavalier  found 
welcome  in  court  circles,  and  De  Gramont  was  promptly 
installed  in  favour.  Here  he  pursued  his  customary 
courses — gambled  with  the  men,  gave  and  received 
splendid  hospitalities  ( for  he  seems  to  have  been  usu- 
ally well  supplied  with  money,  and  when  that  failed 
was  even  more  lavish  in  his  hospitalities  until  the 
gaming-table  replenished  his  purse),  found  time  to 
galantiser  variously  among  the  frail  beauties  of  the 
Court,  and  had  a  dashing  career  during  the  few 
years  of  his  sojourn.  It  is  with  this  period  that  the 
"Memoirs"  are  chiefly  concerned.  They  are  certainly 
startling  reminiscences  of  that  profligate  Court,  giving 
witty  and  graphic  details  of  the  lives  of  many  indi- 
viduals of  note,  men  and  women,  with  their  ambitions, 
intrigues,  loves  and  hatreds,  entertainments  and  cruel- 
ties, practical  jokes,  doings  and  undoings. 

Among  the  most  winsome  of  the  ladies  was  Miss 
Eliza  Hamilton,  daughter  of  Anthony,  Count  Hamil- 
ton, niece  of  the  Duke  of  Ormonde.  With  her,  De 
Gramont  seems  to  have  genuinely  fallen  in  love.  Amid 
his  other  feminine  pursuits  he  held  more  constantly  to 
her  than  to  any  other,  persistently  seeking  her  in  mar- 
riage. She  evidently  favoured  him,  although  to  what 
extent  is  uncertain,  since  in  mid-December,  1663,  De 
Gramont  received  what  he  thought  to  be  a  recall  to 
the  French  Court,  authorised  by  the  King,  and  started 
for  France.  The  story  goes — although  not  chronicled 
in  the  "Memoirs" — that  on  his  way  to  the  coast  he  was 
overtaken  by  George  and  Anthony,  Miss  Hamilton's 
brothers,  who  asked  him  whether  he  had  not  forgotten 


INTRODUCTION  5 

something  in  London.  "Yes,"  he  replied,  "I  forgot 
to  marry  your  sister."  Forthwith  he  returned,  per- 
formed that  pleasant  duty  on  December  22,  and  accord- 
ing to  his  lights — which  were  variable — made  the  new 
countess  a  fairly  steady  husband. 

Here  the  ''Memoirs"  end.  But  in  1664  De  Gramont 
returned  to  France  with  his  wife,  being  graciously  re- 
ceived by  the  King,  and  served  in  the  army  in  the  Low 
Countries,  while  his  Countess  was  accepted  among  the 
attendants  upon  Maria  Theresa,  Queen  Consort  of 
Louis  XIV.  Of  his  two  daughters,  one  married  Henry 
Howard,  Marquis  of  Stratford,  and  the  other  became 
Abbess  of  Poussay,  in  Lorraine. 

Into  De  Gramont's  life  now  came  again  his  brother- 
in-law,  Anthony.  The  Hamilton  family  having  taken 
refuge  in  France  after  the  execution  of  Charles  I., 
Anthony  had  spent  his  youth  in  that  country,  and  be- 
came almost  a  Frenchman.  After  various  experiences 
in  English  Court  and  army  life  under  the  Restoration 
and  the  reign  of  James  II.,  ending  with  the  disastrous 
battle  of  the  Boyne,  July  i,  1690,  he  returned  to  France. 
Here  he  published  divers  romantic  tales,  which  had 
considerable  vogue.  He  also  sought  De  Gramont,  for 
whom  he  evidently  had  a  great  admiration,  and  who 
was  at  that  time  eighty  years  of  age,  but  as  un- 
conquerably gay  and  adventurous  as  in  earlier  years. 
Either  at  the  Count's  dictation  (as  he  claimed)  or 
with  his  cooperative  revision,  Hamilton  wrote  these 
vivid  "Memoirs."  Probably  he  was  himself  the  chief 
author,  since  De  Gramont,  with  all  his  wit,  had  no 
literary  skill,  while  his  wife's  brother  was  a  graceful 
writer  as  well  as  an  intimate  of  the  English  court, 
familiar  with  all  the  persons  and  events  described. 
The  "Memoirs"  were  published  in  the  original  French 
in  1713,  about  five  years  after  De  Gramont's  death, 
and  appeared  the  following  year  in  an  English  trans- 


6  INTRODUCTION 

lation.  The  essential  value  of  this  chronique  scanda- 
leuse  is  that  it  is  true,  and  presents  a  genuine  depiction 
of  a  phase  of  English  Court  life  during  the  reign  of 
the  second  Charles,  in  contrast  to  the  severities  of 
Puritanism  before  it  and  the  general  course  of  English 
royal  history  thereafter. 

De  Gramont  died  in  1707,  at  the  age  of  eighty-six. 
Except  during  a  brief  interval  where  a  serious  ill- 
ness caused  his  formal  reconciliation  with  the  Church 
(which  on  his  recovery  soon  slipped  his  mind),  he  was 
festive  and  debonair  to  the  last.  Ninon  de  1'Enclos, 
the  famous  Parisian,  is  reported  to  have  said  of  him : 
"He  was  the  only  man  who  could  affect  the  follies  of 
youth  without  being  ridiculous."  While  his  utter 
freedom  from  the  restraints  of  principle  would  have 
wrecked  most  men  over  and  again,  De  Gramont's 
extraordinary  gifts  maintained  him  successfully,  and 
have  left  him  uniquely  representative  of  that  wanton- 
ness of  aristocratic  life  that  practically  ended  the 
Stuarts  in  England  and  finally  whelmed  the  French 
monarchy  in  revolution. 


THE  COURT  OF  CHARLES  II 

MEMOIRS    OF   THE 
COUNT    DE    GRAMONT 


CHAPTER    I 

A 5  those  who  read  only  for  amusement  are,  in 
my  opinion,  more  worthy  of  attention  than 
those  who  open  a  book  merely  to  find  fault,  to 
the  former  I  address  myself,  and  for  their  entertain- 
ment commit  the  following  pages  to  press,  without 
being  in  the  least  concerned  about  the  severe  criticisms 
of  the  latter.  I  further  declare,  that  the  order  of  time 
and  disposition  of  the  facts,  which  give  more  trouble 
to  the  writer  than  pleasure  to  the  reader,  shall  not  much 
embarrass  me  in  these  Memoirs.  It  being  my  design 
to  convey  a  just  idea  of  my  hero,  those  circumstances 
which  most  tend  to  illustrate  and  distinguish  his  char- 
acter shall  find  a  place  in  these  fragments  just  as  they 
present  themselves  to  my  imagination,  without  paying 
any  particular  attention  to  their  arrangement.  For, 
after  all,  what  does  it  signify  where  the  portrait  is  be- 
gun, provided  the  assemblage  of  the  parts  forms  a 
whole  which  perfectly  expresses  the  original?  The 
celebrated  Plutarch,  who  treats  his  heroes  as  he  does 
his  readers,  commences  the  life  of  the  one  just  as  he 
thinks  fit,  and  diverts  the  attention  of  the  other  with 
digressions  into  antiquity,  or  agreeable  passages  of 
literature,  which  frequently  have  no  reference  to  the 
subject;  for  instance,  he  tells  us  that  Demetrius  Poli- 
orcetes  was  far  from  being  so  tall  as  his  father,  Antig- 


8 

onus;  and  afterwards,  that  his  reputed  father,  Antig- 
onus,  was  only  his  uncle;  but  this  is  not  until  he  has 
begun  his  life  with  a  short  account  of  his  death,  his 
various  exploits,  his  good  and  bad  qualities ;  and  at  last, 
out  of  compassion  to  his  failings,  brings  forward  a 
comparison  between  him  and  the  unfortunate  Mark 
Antony. 

In  the  life  of  Numa  Pompilius,  he  begins  by  a  dis- 
sertation upon  his  preceptor  Pythagoras;  and,  as  if 
he  thought  the  reader  would  be  anxious  to  know 
whether  it  was  the  ancient  philosopher,  or  one  of  the 
same  name,  who,  after  being  victorious  at  the  Olympic 
games,  went  full  speed  into  Italy  to  teach  Numa  philos- 
ophy, and  instruct  him  in  the  arts  of  government,  he 
gives  himself  much  trouble  to  explain  this  difficulty, 
and,  after  all  leaves  it  undetermined. 

What  I  have  said  upon  this  subject  is  not  meant  to 
reflect  upon  this  historian,  to  whom,  of  all  the  ancients, 
we  are  most  obliged ;  it  is  only  intended  to  authorise 
the  manner  in  which  I  have  treated  a  life  far  more 
extraordinary  than  any  of  those  he  has  transmitted  to 
us.  It  is  my  part  to  describe  a  man  whose  inimitable 
character  casts  a  veil  over  those  faults  which  I  shall 
neither  palliate  nor  disguise;  a  man  distinguished  by  a 
mixture  of  virtues  and  vices  so  closely  linked  together 
as  in  appearance  to  form  a  necessary  dependence,  glow- 
ing with  the  greatest  beauty  when  united,  shining  with 
the  brightest  lustre  when  opposed. 

It  is  this  indefinable  brilliancy,  which,  in  war,  in 
love,  in  gaming,  and  in  the  various  stages  of  a  long  life, 
has  rendered  the  Count  de  Gramont  the  admiration  of 
his  age,  and  the  delight  of  every  country  wherein  he  has 
displayed  his  engaging  wit,  dispensed  his  generosity 
and  magnificence,  or  practised  his  inconstancy :  it  is 
owing  to  this  that  the  sallies  of  a  sprightly  imagination 
have  produced  those  admirable  bon  mots  which  have 


been  with  universal  applause  transmitted  to  posterity. 
It  is  owing  to  this  that  he  preserved  his  judgment  free 
and  unembarrassed  in  the  most  trying  situations,  and 
enjoyed  an  uncommon  presence  of  mind  and  facetious- 
ness  of  temper  in  the  most  imminent  dangers  of  war. 
I  shall  not  attempt  to  draw  his  portrait :  his  person 
has  been  described  by  Bussi  and  Saint-Evremond,8 
authors  more  entertaining  than  faithful.  The  former 
has  represented  the  Chevalier  Gramont  as  artful,  fickle, 
and  even  somewhat  treacherous  in  his  amours,  and  in- 
defatigable and  cruel  in  his  jealousies.  Saint-Evre- 
mond  has  used  other  colours  to  express  the  genius  and 
describe  the  general  manners  of  the  Count;  whilst  both 
in  their  different  pictures,  have  done  greater  honour 
to  themselves  than  justice  to  their  hero. 

It  is,  therefore,  to  the  Count  we  must  listen,  in  the 
agreeable  relation  of  the  sieges  and  battles  wherein  he 

*  Voltaire,  in  the  Age  of  Louis  XIV.  ch.  xxiv.,  speaking  of  that 
monarch,  says :  "  Even  at  the  same  time  when  he  began  to  en- 
courage genius  by  his  liberality,  the  Count  de  Bussi  was  severely 
punished  for  the  use  he  made  of  his;  he  was  sent  to  the  Bastille 
in  1664.  The  Amours  of  the  Gauls  was  the  pretence  of  his  im- 
prisonment; but  the  true  cause  was  the  song  in  which  the  king 
was  treated  with  too  much  freedom,  and  which,  upon  this  occa- 
sion, was  brought  to  remembrance  to  ruin  Bussi,  the  reputed 
author  of  it. 

"  Que  Deodatus  est  heureux, 

De  baiser  ce  bee  amoureux, 

Qui  d'une  oreille  a  1'autre  va! 

"  See  Deodatus  with  his  billing  dear, 
Whose  amorous  mouth  breathes  love  from  ear  to  ear ! 

"  His  works  were  not  good  enough  to  compensate  for  the  mis- 
chief they  did  him.  He  spoke  his  own  language  with  purity:  he 
had  some  merit,  but  more  conceit:  and  he  made  no  use  of  the 
merit  he  had,  but  to  make  himself  enemies."  Voltaire  adds: 
"  Bussi  was  released  at  the  end  of  eighteen  months ;  but  he  was 
in  disgrace  all  the  rest  of  his  life,  in  vain  protesting  a  regard  for 
Louis  XIV."  Bussi  died  1693.  Of  Saint-Evremond,  see  note, 
postea. 


TO         THE    COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

distinguished  himself  under  another  hero ;  and  it  is  on 
him  we  must  rely  for  the  truth  of  passages  the  least 
glorious  of  his  life,  anii  for  the  sincerity  with  which  he 
relates  his  address,  vivacity,  frauds,  and  the  various 
stratagems  he  practised  either  in  love  or  gaming. 
These  express  his  true  character,  and  to  himself  we 
owe  these  Memoirs,  since  I  only  hold  the  pen,  while  he 
directs  it  to  the  most  remarkable  and  secret  passages 
of  his  life. 


CHAPTER    II 

IN  those  days  affairs  were  not  managed  in  France  as 
at  present.  Louis  XIII.1  then  sat  upon  the  throne, 
but  the  Cardinal  de  Richelieu2  governed  the  king- 
dom; great  men  commanded  little  armies,  and  little 
armies  did  great  things :  the  fortune  of  great  men  de- 
pended solely  upon  ministerial  favour,  and  blind  de- 
votion to  the  will  of  the  minister  was  the  only  sure 
method  of  advancement.  Vast  designs  were  then  laying 
in  the  heart  of  neighbouring  states  the  foundation  of 
that  formidable  greatness  to  which  France  has  now 
risen :  the  police  was  somewhat  neglected ;  the  highways 
were  impassable  by  day,  and  the  streets  by  night ;  but 
robberies  were  committed  elsewhere  with  greater  im- 
punity. Young  men,  on  their  first  entrance  into  the 

1  Son  and  successor  of  Henry  IV.  He  began  to  reign  I4th 
May  1610,  and  died  I4th  May  1643. 

3  Of  this  great  minister  Hume  gives  the  following  character : 
"  This  man  had  no  sooner,  by  suppleness  and  intrigue,  gotten 
possession  of  the  reins  of  government,  than  he  formed  at  once 
three  mighty  projects :  to  subdue  the  turbulent  spirits  of  the 
great;  to  reduce  the  rebellious  Huguenots;  and  to  curb  the  en- 
croaching power  of  the  house  of  Austria.  Undaunted  and  im- 
placable, prudent  and  active,  he  braved  all  the  opposition  of  the 
French  princes  and  nobles  in  the  prosecution  of  his  vengeance ; 
he  discovered  and  dissipated  all  their  secret  cabals  and  con- 
spiracies. His  sovereign  himself  he  held  in  subjection,  while  he 
exalted  the  throne.  The  people,  while  they  lost  their  liberties, 
acquired,  by  means  of  his  administration,  learning,  order,  dis- 
cipline, and  renown.  That  confused  and  inaccurate  genius  of 
government,  of  which  France  partook  in  common  with  other 
European  kingdoms,  he  changed  into  a  simple  monarchy,  at  the 
very  time  when  the  incapacity  of  Buckingham  encouraged  the 
free  spirit  of  the  commons  to  establish  in  England  a  regular 
system  of  liberty"  (History  of  England,  vol.  iv.  p.  232).  Car- 
dinal Richelieu  died  1642. 

II 


12         THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

world,  took  what  course  they  thought  proper.  Who- 
ever would,  was  a  chevalier,  and  whoever  could,  an 
abbe:  I  mean  a  beneficed  abbe:  dress  made  no  dis- 
tinction between  them;  and  I  believe  the  Chevalier 
Gramont  was  both  the  one  and  the  other  at  the  siege 
of  Trino.* 

This  was  his  first  campaign,  and  here  he  displayed 
those  attractive  graces  which  so  favourably  prepossess, 
and  require  neither  friends  nor  recommendations  in  any 
company  to  procure  a  favourable  reception.  The  siege 
was  already  formed  when  he  arrived,  which  saved  him 
some  needless  risks ;  for  a  volunteer  cannot  rest  at  ease 
until  he  has  stood  the  first  fire;  he  went  therefore  to 
reconnoitre  the  generals,  having  no  occasion  to  recon- 
noitre the  place.  Prince  Thomas4  commanded  the 
army;  and  as  the  post  of  lieutenant-general  was  not 
then  known/  Du  Plessis  Pralin*  and  the  famous 
Viscount  Turenne7  were  his  major-generals.  Fortified 

*  Trino  was  taken  4th  May  1639. 

4  Of  Savoy,  uncle  of  the  reigning  duke.    He  died  1656. 
"The  rank  of  lieutenant-general  was   (according  to  the  Me- 
moirs of  Turenne}  given  to  that  general  in  the  year  1638. 

*  Afterwards  Marechal  and  Duke  de  Choiseul.   He  retired  from 
the  array  in  1672.     Monsieur  Henault,  in  his  History  of  France, 
under  that  year,  says :  "  Le  Marechal  du  Plessis  ne  fit  pas  cette 
campagne  a  cause  de  son  grand  age ;  il  dit  au  roi  qu'il  portoit 
envie  a  ses  enfans,  qui  avoient  1'honneur  de  servir  sa  majeste, 
que  pour  lui  il   souhaitoit  la  mort,  puisqu'il  n'etoit  plus  bon  a 
rien :  le  roi  1'embrassa,  et  lui  dit :  'M.  le  Marechal,  on  ne  travaille 
que  pour  approcher  de  la  reputation  que  -vous  avez  acquise:  il  est 
agreable  de  se  reposer  apres  tants  de  victoires." 

7  This  great  general  was  killed,  27lh  July  1675,  by  a  cannon- 
shot,  near  the  village  of  Salzbach,  in  going  to  choose  a  place 
whereon  to  erect  a  battery.  "  No  one,"  says  Voltaire,  "  is  igno- 
rant of  the  circumstances  of  his  death;  but  we  cannot  here 
refrain  from  a  review  of  the  principal  of  them,  for  the  same 
reason  that  they  are  still  talked  of  every  day.  It  seems  as  if 
one  could  not  too  often  repeat,  that  the  same  bullet  which  killed 
him,  having  shot  off  the  arm  of  St.  Hilaire,  lieutenant-general 
of  the  artillery,  his  son  came  and  bewailed  his  misfortune  with 
many  tears ;  but  the  father,  looking  towards  Turenne  said :  '  It 
is  not  I,  but  that  great  man,  who  should  be  lamented.'  These 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  13 

places  were  treated  with  some  respect,  before  a  power 
which  nothing  can  withstand  had  found  means  to  de- 
stroy them  by  dreadful  showers  of  bombs,  and  by 
destructive  batteries  of  hundreds  of  pieces  of  cannon. 
Before  these  furious  storms  which  drive  governors 
under  ground  and  reduce  their  garrisons  to  powder, 
repeated  sallies  bravely  repulsed,  and  vigorous  attacks 
nobly  sustained,  signalised  both  the  art  of  the  besiegers 
and  the  courage  of  the  besieged ;  consequently,  sieges 
were  of  some  length,  and  young  men  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  gaining  some  knowledge.  Many  brave  ac- 
tions were  performed  on  each  side  during  the  siege  of 
Trino;  a  great  deal  of  fatigue  was  endured,  and  con- 
siderable losses  sustained;  but  fatigue  was  no  more 
considered,  hardships  were  no  more  felt  in  the  trenches, 
gravity  was  at  an  end  with  the  generals,  and  the  troops 
were  no  longer  dispirited  after  the  arrival  of  the 
Chevalier  Gramont.  Pleasure  was  his  pursuit,  and 
he  made  it  universal. 
.  Among  the  officers  in  the  army,  as  in  all  other 

words  may  be  compared  with  the  most  heroic  sayings  recorded 
in  all  history,  and  are  the  best  eulogy  that  can  be  bestowed  upon 
Turenne.  It  is  uncommon,  under  a  despotic  government,  where 
people  are  actuated  only  by  their  private  interests,  for  those  who 
have  served  their  country  to  die  regretted  by  the  public.  Never- 
theless, Turenne  was  lamented  both  by  the  soldiers  and  people; 
and  Louvois  was  the  only  one  who  rejoiced  at  his  death.  The 
honours  which  the  King  ordered  to  be  paid  to  his  memory  are 
known  to  every  one;  and  that  he  was  interred  at  St.  Denis,  in 
the  same  manner  as  the  Constable  du  Guesclin,  above  whom  he 
was  elevated  by  the  voice  of  the  public,  as  much  as  the  age  of 
Turenne  was  superior  to  the  age  of  the  Constable." 

It  appears,  from  the  Memoirs  of  St.  Hilaire,  where  Voltaire 
found  his  anecdote,  that  Count  Hamilton  was  present  at  the  death 
of  Turenne.  Monsieur  de  Boze  had  twice  sent  to  Turenne,  to 
beg  him  to  come  to  the  place  where  the  battery  was  to  be  erected, 
which  Turenne,  as  if  by  presentiment,  declined.  Count  Hamilton 
brought  the  third  anxious  request  from  De  Boze ;  and  in  riding 
to  the  place  where  he  was,  Turenne  received  his  death-blow. 
The  horse  of  Montecuculi,  the  opposite  general,  was,  in  the 
course  of  the  same  day,  killed  by  a  cannon-shot 


14         THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

places,  there  are  men  of  real  merit,  or  pretenders  to 
it.  The  latter  endeavoured  to  imitate  the  Chevalier 
Gramont  in  his  most  shining  qualities,  but  without 
success ;  the  former  admired  his  talents  and  courted  his 
friendship.  Of  this  number  was  Matta.8  He  was  agree- 
able in  his  person,  but  still  more  by  the  natural  turn 
of  his  wit ;  he  was  plain  and  simple  in  his  manners,  but 
endued  with  a  quick  discernment  and  refined  delicacy, 
and  full  of  candour  and  integrity  in  all  his  actions. 
The  Chevalier  Gramont  was  not  long  in  discovering 
his  amiable  qualities ;  an  acquaintance  was  soon  formed, 
and  was  succeeded  by  the  strictest  intimacy. 

Matta  insisted  that  the  Chevalier  should  take  up  his 
quarters  with  him ;  to  which  he  only  consented  on  con- 
dition of  equally  contributing  to  the  expense.  As  they 
were  both  liberal  and  magnificent,  at  their  common  cost 
they  gave  the  best  designed  and  most  luxurious  en- 
tertainments that  had  ever  yet  been  seen.  Play  was 
wonderfully  productive  at  first,  and  the  Chevalier  re- 
stored by  a  hundred  different  ways  that  which  he 
obtained  only  by  one.  The  generals,  being  entertained 
by  turns,  admired  their  magnificence,  and  were  dissatis- 
fied with  their  own  officers  for  not  keeping  such  good 
tables  and  attendance.  The  Chevalier  had  the  talent  of 
setting  off  the  most  indifferent  things  to  advantage; 
and  his  wit  was  so  generally  acknowledged,  that  it  was 
a  kind  of  disgrace  not  to  submit  to  his  taste.  To  him 
Matta  resigned  the  care  of  furnishing  the  table  and 

8  The  Count  de  Matta  (&.  1614,  ob.  1674)  was  the  son  of  Claude 
de  Bourdeille,  Baron  de  Mastas,  d'Aumargne  and  de  Beaulieu. 
He  had  served  some  time  in  the  army  when  Gramont  joined  the 
forces  at  the  siege  of  Trino.  The  combination  of  indolence  and 
talent,  of  wit  and  simplicity,  of  bluntness  and  irony,  with  which 
the  Count  de  Matta  is  represented,  may  have  been  derived  from 
tradition,  but  could  only  have  been  united  into  the  inimitable 
whole  by  the  pen  of  Hamilton.  He  was  like  Gramont  in  many 
respects,  particularly  in  regard  to  his  stories  and  repartees.  Sev- 
eral of  his  bon  mots  have  been  preserved;  but  the  spirit  evapo* 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  15 

doing  its  honours;  and,  charmed  with  the  general  ap- 
plause, persuaded  himself  that  nothing  could  be  more 
honourable  than  their  way  of  living,  and  nothing  more 
easy  than  to  continue  it.  But  he  soon  perceived  that 
the  greatest  prosperity  is  not  the  most  lasting.  Good 
living,  bad  economy,  dishonest  servants,  and  ill-luck, 
all  uniting  together  to  disconcert  their  housekeeping, 
their  table  was  going  to  be  gradually  laid  aside,  when 
the  Chevalier's  genius,  fertile  in  resources,  undertook 
to  support  his  former  credit  by  the  following  expedient. 
They  had  never  yet  conferred  about  the  state  of  their 
finances,  although  the  steward  had  acquainted  each, 
separately,  that  he  must  either  receive  money  to  con- 
tinue the  expenses,  or  give  in  his  accounts.  One  day, 
when  the  Chevalier  came  home  sooner  than  usual,  he 
found  Matta  fast  asleep  in  an  easy-chair,  and,  being 
unwilling  to  disturb  his  rest,  he  began  musing  on  his 
project.  Matta  awoke  without  his  perceiving  it;  and 
having,  for  a  short  time,  observed  the  deep  contempla- 
tion he  seemed  involved  in,  and  the  profound  silence 
between  two  persons  who  had  never  held  their  tongues 
for  a  moment  when  together  before,  he  broke  it  by  a 
sudden  fit  of  laughter,  which  increased  in  proportion 
as  the  other  stared  at  him.  "  A  merry  way  of  waking, 
and  ludicrous  enough,"  said  the  Chevalier;  "what  is  the 

fates  in  translation.  "  Where  could  I  get  this  nose  ?  "  said  Ma- 
dame D'Albret,  observing  a  slight  tendency  to  a  flush  in  that 
feature.  "  At  the  sideboard,  Madame,"  answered  Matta.  When 
the  same  lady,  in  despair  at  her  brother's  death,  refused  all  nour- 
ishment, Matta  administered  this  blunt  consolation:  "If  you  are 
resolved,  Madame,  never  again  to  swallow  food,  you  do  well ;  but 
if  ever  you  m'ean  to  eat  upon  any  future  occasion,  believe  me, 
you  may  as  well  begin  just  now."  Madame  Caylus,  in  her 
Souvenirs,  commemorates  the  simple  and  natural  humour  of 
Matta  as  rendering  him  the  most  delightful  society  in  the  world. 
Mademoiselle  de  Montpensier,  in  her  Memoirs,  alludes  to  his 
pleasantry  in  conversation,  and  turn  for  deep  gaming.  For  fuller 
particulars  of  the  Count,  see  Notes  and  Queries,  Series  i.  vol.  x. 
pp.  138  and  157. 


16         THE  COURT  OF   CHARLES   II 

matter,  and  whom  do  you  laugh  at?"  "Faith,  Chev- 
alier," said  Matta,  "I  am  laughing  at  a  dream  I  had 
just  now,  which  is  so  natural  and  diverting,  that  I 
must  make  you  laugh  at  it  also.  I  was  dreaming  that 
we  had  dismissed  our  maitre-d'hotel,  our  cook,  and 
our  confectioner,  having  resolved,  for  the  remainder  of 
the  campaign,  to  live  upon  those  as  others  have  lived 
upon  us :  this  was  my  dream.  Now  tell  me,  Chevalier, 
on  what  were  you  musing?"  "Poor  fellow!"  said  the 
Chevalier,  shrugging  up  his  shoulders,  "you  are 
knocked  down  at  once,  and  thrown  into  the  utmost 
consternation  and  despair  at  some  silly  stories  which 
the  maitre-d'hotel  has  been  telling  you  as  well  as  me. 
What !  after  the  figure  we  have  made  in  the  face  of  the 
nobility  and  foreigners  in  the  army,  shall  we  give  it 
up,  and  like  fools  and  beggars  sneak  off,  upon  the  first 
failure  of  our  money!  Have  you  no  sentiments  of 
honour?  Where  is  the  dignity  of  France?"  "And 
where  is  the  money?"  said  Matta;  "for  my  men  say, 
the  devil  may  take  them,  if  there  be  ten  crowns  in  the 
house;  and  believe  you  have  not  much  more,  for  it  is 
above  a  week  since  I  have  seen  you  pull  out  your  purse, 
or  count  your  money,  an  amusement  you  were  very 
fond  of  in  prosperity."  "I  own  all  this,"  said  the 
Chevalier,  "but  yet  I  will  force  you  to  confess,  that 
you  are  but  a  mean-spirited  fellow  upon  this  occasion. 
What  would  have  become  of  you  if  you  had  been 
reduced  to  the  situation  I  was  in  at  Lyons,  four  days 
before  I  arrived  here?  I  will  tell  you  the  story." 


CHAPTER   III 

"fT^HIS,"  said  Malta,  "smells  strongly  of  romance, 

except  that  it  should  have  been  your  squire's 

-*•     part  to  tell  your  adventures."     "True,"  said 

the  Chevalier;  "however,  I  may  acquaint  you  with  my 

first  exploits  without  offending  my  modesty;  besides, 

my  squire's  style  borders  too  much  upon  the  burlesque 

for  an  heroic  narrative. 

"You  must  know,  then,  that  upon  my  arrival  at 

Lyons "  "Is  it  thus  you  begin?"  said  Matta. 

"Pray  give  us  your  history  a  little  farther  back.  The 
most  minute  particulars  of  a  life  like  yours  are  worthy 
of  relation;  but,  above  all,  the  manner  in  which  you 
first  paid  your  respects  to  Cardinal  Richelieu:  I  have 
often  laughed  at  it.  However,  you  may  pass  over  the 
unlucky  pranks  of  your  infancy,  your  genealogy,  name 
and  quality  of  your  ancestors,  for  that  is  a  subject  with 
which  you  must  be  utterly  unacquainted." 

"Pooh!"  said  the  Chevalier;  "you  think  that  all 
the  world  is  as  ignorant  as  yourself ; — you  think  that  I 
am  a  stranger  to  the  Mendores1  and  the  Corisandes. 
So,  perhaps  I  don't  know  that  it  was  my  father's  own 
fault  that  he  was  not  the  son  of  Henry  IV.  The  King 
would  by  all  means  have  acknowledged  him  for  his  son, 
but  the  traitor  would  never  consent  to  it.  See  what 
the  Gramonts  would  have  been  now,  but  for  this  cross- 
grained  fellow !  They  would  have  had  precedence  of 
the  Caesars  de  Vendome.1  You  may  laugh,  if  you  like, 

1  M'enad  d'Aure. 

"Caesar,  Duke  de  Vendome,  was  the  eldest  son  of  Henry  IV, 
by  the  celebrated  Gabrielle  d'Estre'es.    He  died  in  1665. 

X? 


i8         THE    COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

yet  it  is  as  true  as  the  gospel :  but  let  us  come  to  the 
point. 

"I  was  sent  to  the  college  at  Pau,4  with  the  inten- 
tion of  being  brought  up  to  the  Church ;  but  as  I  had 
quite  different  views,  I  made  no  manner  of  improve- 
ment :  gaming  was  so  much  in  my  head,  that  both  my 
tutor  and  the  master  lost  their  labour  in  endeavouring 
to  teach  me  Latin.  Old  Brinon,  who  served  me  both 
as  valet-de-chambre  and  governor,  in  vain  threatened 
to  acquaint  my  mother.  I  only  studied  when  I  pleased, 
that  is  to  say,  seldom  or  never :  however,  they  treated 
me  as  is  customary  with  scholars  of  my  quality ;  I  was 
raised  to  all  the  dignities  of  the  forms,  without  having 
merited  them,  and  left  college  nearly  in  the  same  state 
in  which  I  entered  it;  nevertheless,  I  was  thought  to 
have  more  knowledge  than  was  requisite  for  the  abbacy 
which  my  brother  had  solicited  for  me.  He  had  just 
married  the  niece  of  a  minister,8  to  whom  every  one 
cringed :  he  was  desirous  to  present  me  to  him.  I  felt 
but  little  regret  to  quit  the  country,  and  great  im- 
patience to  see  Paris.  My  brother  having  kept  me  some 
time  with  him,  in  order  to  polish  me,  let  me  loose  upon 
the  town  to  shake  off  my  rustic  air,  and  learn  the  man- 
ners of  the  world.  I  so  thoroughly  gained  them,  that 
I  could  not  be  persuaded  to  lay  them  aside  when  I  was 
introduced  at  Court  in  the  character  of  an  Abbe.  You 
know  what  kind  of  dress  was  then  the  fashion.  All 
that  they  could  obtain  of  me  was  to  put  a  cassock  over 
my  other  clothes,  and  my  brother,  ready  to  die  with 
laughing  at  my  ecclesiastical  habit,  made  others  laugh 

4  Pau  was  the  capital  of  the  principality  of  Bearne,  and  lies 
on  an  eminence  on  the  Gave  Bearnois,  being  indeed  small  and 
«  well  built,  and  formerly  the  seat  of  a  parliament,  a  bailiwick, 
and  a  chamber  of  accounts.  In  the  palace  here  was  born  Henry 
IV.  Exclusive  of  an  academy  of  sciences  and  liberal  arts,  there 
was  in  it  a  college  of  Jesuits,  with  five  convents  and  two  hos- 
pitals. 6  Richelieu. 


"She   suffered  me  to  depart,  under  the  protection  of  the  Lord 
and  the  sage  Brinon." 

—p.  20 
From  the  painting  by  C.  Delort. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  19 

too.  I  had  the  finest  head  of  hair  in  the  world,  well 
curled  and  powdered,  above  my  cassock,  and  below 
were  white  buskins  and  gilt  spurs.  The  Cardinal,' 
who  had  a  quick  discernment,  could  not  help  laugh- 
ing. This  elevation  of  sentiment  gave  him  umbrage; 
and  he  foresaw  what  might  be  expected  from  a  genius 
that  already  laughed  at  the  shaven  crown  and  cowl. 

"When  my  brother  had  taken  me  home,  'Well,  my 
little  parson/  said  he,  'you  have  acted  your  part  to 
admiration,  and  your  parti-coloured  dress  of  the  eccle- 
siastic and  soldier  has  greatly  diverted  the  Court;  but 
this  is  not  all :  you  must  now  choose,  my  little  knight. 
Consider  then,  whether,  by  sticking  to  the  Church, 
you  will  possess  great  revenues,  and  have  nothing  to 
do;  or,  with  a  small  portion,  you  will  risk  the  loss  of 
a  leg  or  arm,  and  be  the  fructus  belli  of  an  insensible 
court,  to  arrive  in  your  old  age  at  the  dignity  of  a 
major-general,  with  a  glass  eye  and  a  wooden  leg/ 
'I  know/  said  I,  'that  there  is  no  comparison  between 
these  two  situations,  with  regard  to  the  conveniences  of 
life;  but  as  a  man  ought  to  secure  his  future  state  in 
preference  to  all  other  considerations,  I  am  resolved  to 
renounce  the  Church  for  the  salvation  of  my  soul,  upon 
condition,  however,  that  I  keep  my  abbacy/  Neither 
the  remonstrances  nor  authority  of  my  brother  could 
induce  me  to  change  my  resolution ;  and  he  was  forced 
to  agree  to  this  last  article  in  order  to  keep  me  at  the 
academy.  You  know  that  I  am  the  most  adroit  man 
in  France,  so  that  I  soon  learned  all  that  is  taught  at 
such  places,  and,  at  the  same  time,  I  also  learnt  that 
which  gives  the  finishing  stroke  to  a  young  fellow's 
education,  and  makes  him  a  gentleman,  viz.,  all  sorts 
of  games,  both  at  cards  and  dice;  but  the  truth  is,  I 
thought,  at  first,  that  I  had  more  skill  in  them  than  I 
really  had,  as  experience  proved.  When  my  mother 

'Ibid. 


20         THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

knew  the  choice  I  had  made,  she  was  inconsolable; 
for  she  reckoned,  that  had  I  been  a  clergyman  I  should 
have  been  a  saint;  but  now  she  was  certain  that  I 
should  either  be  a  devil  in  the  world,  or  be  killed  in  the 
wars.  And  indeed  I  burned  with  impatience  to  be  a 
soldier;  but  being  yet  too  young,  I  was  forced  to  make 
a  campaign  at  Bidache7  before  I  made  one  in  the  army. 
When  I  returned  to  my  mother's  house,  I  had  so  much 
<  the  air  of  a  courtier  and  a  man  of  the  world,  that  she 
began  to  respect  me  instead  of  chiding  me  for  my  in- 
fatuation towards  the  army.  I  became  her  favourite, 
and  finding  me  inflexible,  she  only  thought  of  keeping 
me  with  her  as  long  as  she  could,  while  my  little 
equipage  was  preparing.  The  faithful  Brinon,  who  was 
to  attend  me  as  valet-de-chambre,  was  likewise  to  dis- 
charge the  office  of  governor  and  equerry,  being,  per- 
haps, the  only  Gascon  who  was  ever  possessed  of  so 
much  gravity  and  ill-temper.  He  passed  his  word  for 
my  good  behaviour  and  morality,  and  promised  my 
mother  that  he  would  give  a  good  account  of  my  person 
in  the  dangers  of  the  war;  but  I  hope  he  will  keep  his 
word  better  as  to  this  last  article  than  he  has  done  as 
to  the  former. 

"My  equipage  was  sent  away  a  week  before  me. 
This  was  so  much  time  gained  by  my  mother  to  give 
me  good  advice.  At  length,  after  having  solemnly 
enjoined  me  to  have  the  fear  of  God  before  my  eyes, 
and  to  love  my  neighbour  as  myself,  she  suffered  me  to 
depart,  under  the  protection  of  the  Lord  and  the  sage 
Brinon.  At  the  second  stage  we  quarrelled.  He  had 
received  four  hundred  louis  d'or*  for  the  expenses  of 
the  campaign :  I  wished  to  have  the  keeping  of  them 

TA  principality  belonging  to  the  family  of  the  Gramonts,  in 
the  province  of  Gascony. 

"Here,  and  elsewhere,  should  be  pistoles:  the  value  of  about 
eight  shillings,  or  two  dollars. 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  21 

myself,  which  he  strenuously  opposed.  'Thou  old 
scoundrel,'  said  I,  'is  the  money  thine,  or  was  it  given 
you  for  me?  You  suppose  I  must  have  a  treasurer, 
and  receive  no  money  without  his  order.'  I  know  not 
whether  it  was  from  a  presentiment  of  what  afterwards 
happened  that  he  grew  melancholy;  however,  it  was 
with  the  greatest  reluctance  and  the  most  poignant 
anguish,  that  he  found  himself  obliged  to  yield.  One 
would  have  thought  that  I  had  wrested  his  very  soul 
from  him.  I  found  myself  more  light  and  merry  after 
I  had  eased  him  of  his  trust;  he,  on  the  contrary,  ap- 
peared so  overwhelmed  with  grief,  that  it  seemed  as  if 
I  had  laid  four  hundred  pounds  of  lead  upon  his  back, 
instead  of  taking  away  these  four  hundred  louis.'  He 
went  on  so  heavily,  that  I  was  forced  to  whip  his  horse 
myself,  and  turning  to  me,  now  and  then,  'Ah!  sir,' 
said  he,  'my  lady  did  not  think  it  would  be  so.'  His 
reflections  and  sorrows  were  renewed  at  every  stage; 
for,  instead  of  giving  a  shilling10  to  the  post-boy,  I  gave 
him  half-a-crown.u 

"Having  at  last  reached  Lyons,  two  soldiers  stopped 
us  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  to  carry  us  before  the  govern- 
nor.  I  took  one  of  them  to  conduct  me  to  the  best  inn, 
and  delivered  Brinon  into  the  hands  of  the  other,  to 
acquaint  the  commandant  with  the  particulars  of  my 
journey,  and  my  future  intentions. 

"There  are  as  good  taverns  at  Lyons  as  at  Paris; 
but  my  soldier,  according  to  custom,  carried  me  to  a 
friend  of  his  own,  whose  house  he  extolled  as  having 
the  best  accommodations,  and  the  greatest  resort  of 
good  company  in  the  whole  town.  The  master  of  this 
hotel  was  as  big  as  a  hogshead,  his  name  Cerise;  a 
Swiss  by  birth,  a  poisoner  by  profession,  and  a  thief  by 
custom.  He  showed  me  into  a  tolerably  neat  room, 
and  desired  to  know  whether  I  pleased  to  sup  by  myself 

•Pistoles.        10Ten  sols.       "Thirty   (Vizetelly's  translation). 


22         THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

or  at  the  ordinary.  I  chose  the  latter,  on  account  of 
the  beau  monde  which  the  soldier  had  boasted  of. 

"Brinon,  who  was  quite  out  of  temper  at  the  many 
questions  which  the  governor  had  asked  him,  returned 
more  surly  than  an  old  ape;  and  seeing  that  I  was 
dressing  my  hair,  in  order  to  go  downstairs :  'What  are 
you  about  now,  sir  ?'  said  he.  'Are  you  going  to  tramp 
about  the  town  ?  No,  no ;  have  we  not  had  tramping 
enough  ever  since  the  morning?  Eat  a  bit  of  supper, 
and  go  to  bed  betimes,  that  you  may  get  on  horseback 
by  daybreak.'  'Mr.  Comptroller/  said  I,  'I  shall 
neither  tramp  about  the  town,  nor  eat  alone,  nor  go  to 
bed  early.  I  intend  to  sup  with  the  company  below.' 
'At  the  ordinary!'  cried  he;  'I  beseech  you,  sir,  do  not 
think  of  it!  Devil  take  me,  if  there  be  not  a  dozen 
brawling  fellows  playing  at  cards  and  dice,  who  make 
noise  enough  to  drown  the  loudest  thunder !' 

"I  had  grown  insolent  since  I  had  seized  the  money ; 
and  being  desirous  to  shake  off  the  yoke  of  a  governor, 
'Do  you  know,  Mr.  Brinon,'  said  I,  'that  I  don't  like  a 
blockhead  to  set  up  for  a  reasoner?  Do  you  go  to 
supper,  if  you  please;  but  take  care  that  I  have  post- 
horses  ready  before  daybreak.'  The  moment  he  men- 
tioned cards  and  dice,  I  felt  the  money  burn  in  my 
pocket.  I  was  somewhat  surprised,  however,  to  find  the 
room  where  the  ordinary  was  served  filled  with  odd- 
looking  creatures.  My  host,  after  presenting  me  to 
the  company,  assured  me  that  there  were  but  eighteen 
or  twenty  of  those  gentlemen  who  would  have  the 
honour  to  sup  with  me.  I  approached  one  of  the  tables 
where  they  were  playing,  and  thought  I  should  have 
died  with  laughing :  I  expected  to  have  seen  good  com- 
pany and  deep  play ;  but  I  only  met  with  two  Germans 
playing  at  backgammon.  Never  did  two  country 
boobies  play  like  them;  but  their  figures  beggared  all 
description.  The  fellow  near  whom  I  stood  was  short, 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  23 

thick,  and  fat,  and  as  round  as  a  ball,  with  a  ruff,  and 
a  prodigious  high-crowned  hat.  Any  one,  at  a  moder- 
ate distance,  would  have  taken  him  for  the  dome  of  a 
church,  with  the  steeple  on  the  top  of  it.  I  inquired  of 
the  host  who  he  was.  'A  merchant  from  Basle/  said 
he,  'who  comes  hither  to  sell  horses;  but  from  the 
method  he  pursues,  I  think  he  will  not  dispose  of  many ; 
for  he  does  nothing  but  play.'  'Does  he  play  deep?' 
said  I.  'Not  now,'  said  he ;  'they  are  only  playing  for 
their  reckoning,  while  supper  is  getting  ready;  but  he 
has  no  objection  to  play  as  deep  as  any  one.'  'Has  he 
money?'  said  I.  'As  for  that,'  replied  the  treacherous 
Cerise,  'would  to  God  you  had  won  a  thousand  pistoles 
of  him,  and  I  went  you  halves ;  we  should  not  be  long 
without  our  money.'  I  wanted  no  further  encourage- 
ment to  meditate  the  ruin  of  the  high-crowned  hat.  I 
went  nearer  to  him,  in  order  to  take  a  closer  survey; 
never  was  such  a  bungler ;  he  made  mistake  after  mis- 
take; God  knows,  I  began  to  feel  some  remorse  at 
winning  of  such  an  ignoramus,  who  knew  so  little  of 
the  game.  He  lost  his  reckoning;  supper  was  served 
up;  and  I  desired  him  to  sit  next  me.  It  was  a  long 
table,  and  there  were  at  least  five-and-twenty  in  com- 
pany, notwithstanding  the  landlord's  promise.  The 
most  execrable  repast  that  ever  was  begun  being  fin- 
ished, all  the  crowd  insensibly  dispersed,  except  the 
little  Swiss,  who  still  kept  near  me,  and  the  landlord, 
who  placed  himself  on  the  other  side  of  me.  They  both 
smoked  like  dragoons;  and  the  Swiss  was  continually 
saying,  in  bad  French,  'I  ask  your  pardon,  sir,  for  my 
great  freedom,'  at  the  same  time  blowing  such  whiffs 
of  tobacco  in  my  face  as  almost  suffocated  me.  Mr. 
Cerise,  on  the  other  hand,  desired  he  might  take  the 
liberty  of  asking  me  whether  I  had  ever  been  in  his 
country  ?  and  seemed  surprised  I  had  so  genteel  an  air, 
without  having  travelled  in  Switzerland. 


24         THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

"The  little  chub  I  had  to  encounter  was  full  as 
inquisitive  as  the  other.  He  desired  to  know  whether 
I  came  from  the  army  in  Piedmont;  and  having  told 
him  I  was  going  thither,  he  asked  me,  whether  I  had 
a  mind  to  buy  any  horses;  that  he  had  about  two  hun- 
dred to  dispose  of,  and  that  he  would  sell  them  cheap. 
I  began  to  be  smoked  like  a  gammon  of  bacon;  and 
being  quite  wearied  out,  both  with  their  tobacco  and 
their  questions,  I  asked  my  companion  if  he  would  play 
for  a  single  pistole  at  backgammon,  while  our  men 
were  supping ;  it  was  not  without  great  ceremony  that 
he  consented,  at  the  same  time  asking  my  pardon  for 
his  great  freedom. 

"I  won  the  game ;  I  gave  him  his  revenge,  and  won 
again.  We  then  played  double  or  quits,  and  I  won 
that  too,  and  all  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye ;  for  he  grew 
vexed,  and  suffered  himself  to  be  taken  in  so  that  I 
began  to  bless  my  stars  for  my  good  fortune.  Brinon 
came  in  about  the  end  of  the  third  game,  to  put  me  to 
bed;  he  made  a  great  sign  of  the  cross,  but  paid  no 
attention  to  the  signs  I  made  him  to  retire.  I  was 
forced  to  rise  to  give  him  that  order  in  private.  He 
began  to  reprimand  me  for  disgracing  myself  by  keep- 
ing company  with  such  a  low-bred  wretch.  It  was  in 
vain  that  I  told  him  he  was  a  great  merchant,  that  he 
had  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  that  he  played  like  a 
child.  'He  a  merchant !'  cried  Brinon.  'Do  not  believe 
that,  sir!  May  the  devil  take  me,  if  he  is  not  some 
conjurer.'  'Hold  your  tongue,  old  fool,'  said  I ;  'he  is 
no  more  a  conjurer  than  you  are,  and  that  is  decisive; 
and,  to  prove  it  to  you,  I  am  resolved  to  win  four  or 
five  hundred  pistoles  of  him  before  I  go  to  bed.'  With 
these  words  I  turned  him  out,  strictly  enjoining  him 
not  to  return,  or  in  any  manner  to  disturb  us. 

"The  game  being  done,  the  little  Swiss  unbuttoned 
his  pockets,  to  pull  out  a  new  four-pistole  piece,  and 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  25 

presenting  it  to  me,  he  asked  my  pardon  for  his  great 
freedom,  and  seemed  as  if  he  wished  to  retire.  This 
was  not  what  I  wanted.  I  told  him  we  only  played 
for  amusement;  that  I  had  no  design  upon  his  money; 
and  that,  if  he  pleased,  I  would  play  him  a  single  game 
for  his  four  pistoles.  He  raised  some  objections;  but 
consented  at  last,  and  won  back  his  money.  I  was 
piqued  at  it.  I  played  another  game ;  fortune  changed 
sides;  the  dice  ran  for  him,  he  made  no  more  errors. 
I  lost  the  game;  another  game,  and  double  or  quits; 
we  doubled  the  stake,  and  played  double  or  quits  again. 
I  was  vexed;  he,  like  a  true  gamester,  took  every  bet 
I  offered,  and  won  all  before  him,  without  my  getting 
more  than  six  points  in  eight  or  ten  games.  I  asked 
him  to  play  a  single  game  for  one  hundred  pistoles; 
but  as  he  saw  I  did  not  stake,  he  told  me  it  was  late ; 
that  he  must  go  and  look  after  his  frorses;  and  went 
away,  still  asking  my  pardon  for  his  great  freedom. 
The  cool  manner  of  his  refusal,  and  the  politeness  with 
which  he  took  his  leave,  provoked  me  to  such  a  degree, 
that  I  could  almost  have  killed  him.  I  was  so  con- 
founded at  losing  my  money  so  fast,  even  to  the  last 
pistole,  that  I  did  not  immediately  consider  the  miser- 
able situation  to  which  I  was  reduced. 

"I  durst  not  go  up  to  my  chamber  for  fear  of  Brinon. 
By  good  luck,  however,  he  was  tired  with  waiting  for 
me,  and  had  gone  to  bed.  This  was  some  consolation, 
though  but  of  short  continuance.  As  soon  as  I  was 
laid  down,  all  the  fatal  consequences  of  my  adventure 
presented  themselves  to  my  imagination.  I  could  not 
sleep.  I  saw  all  the  horrors  of  my  misfortune,  without 
being  able  to  find  any  remedy;  in  vain  did  I  rack  my 
brain;  it  supplied  me  with  no  expedient.  I  feared 
nothing  so  much  as  daybreak;  however,  it  did  come, 
and  the  cruel  Brinon  along  with  it.  He  was  booted 
up  to  the  middle,  and  cracking  a  cursed  whip,  which 


26         THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

he  held  in  his  hand,  'Up,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier/  cried 
he,  opening  the  curtains;  'the  horses  are  at  the  door, 
and  you  are  still  asleep.  We  ought  by  this  time  to  have 
ridden  two  stages;  give  me  money  to  pay  the  reckon- 
ing.' 'Brinon/  said  I,  in  a  dejected  tone,  'draw  the 
curtains.'  'What!'  cried  he,  'draw  the  curtains!  Do 
you  intend,  then,  to  make  your  campaign  at  Lyons? 
you  seem  to  have  taken  a  liking  to  the  place.  And 
for  the  great  merchant,  you  have  stripped  him,  I  sup- 
pose? No,  no,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier,  this  money  will 
never  do  you  any  good.  This  wretch  has  perhaps  a 
family;  and  it  is  his  children's  bread  that  he  has  been 
playing  with,  and  that  you  have  won.  Was  this  an 
object  to  sit  up  all  night  for?  What, would  my  lady 
say  if  she  knew  what  a  life  you  lead?'  'M.  Brinon/ 
said  I,  'pray  draw  the  curtains.'  But  instead  of  obey- 
ing me,  one  would  have  thought  that  the  devil  had 
prompted  him  to  use  the  most  pointed  and  galling  terms 
to  a  person  under  such  misfortunes.  'And  how  much 
have  you  won  ?'  said  he ;  'five  hundred  pistoles  ?  What 
must  the  poor  man  do?  Recollect,  Monsieur  le  Chev- 
alier, what  I  have  said,  this  money  will  never  thrive 
with  you.  It  is,  perhaps,  but  four  hundred?  three? 
two?  Well,  if  it  be  but  one  hundred  pistoles,'  con- 
tinued he,  seeing  that  I  shook  my  head  at  every  sum 
which  he  had  named,  'there  is  no  great  mischief  done ; 
one  hundred  pistoles  will  not  ruin  him,  provided  you 
have  won  them  fairly.'-  'Friend  Brinon/  said  I,  fetch- 
ing a  deep  sigh,  'draw  the  curtains :  I  am  unworthy  to 
see  daylight.'  Brinon  was  much  affected  at  these  mel- 
ancholy words,  but  I  thought  he  would  have  fainted, 
when  I  told  him  the  whole  adventure.  He  tore  his 
hair,  made  grievous  lamentations,  the  burden  of  which 
still  was,  'What  will  my  lady  say?'  And.  after  having 
exhausted  his  unprofitable  complaints,  'What  will  be- 
come of  you  now,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier?'  said  he, 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  27 

'what  do  you  intend  to  do  ?'  'Nothing,'  said  I ;  'for  I 
am  fit  for  nothing.'  After  this,  being  somewhat  eased 
after  making  him  my  confession,  I  thought  upon  sev- 
eral projects,  to  none  of  which  could  I  gain  his  ap- 
probation. I  would  have  had  him  post  after  my  equi- 
page, to  have  sold  some  of  my  clothes.  I  was  for  pro- 
posing to  the  horse-dealer  to  buy  some  horses  of  him 
at  a  high  price  on  credit,  to  sell  again  cheap.  Brinon 
laughed  at  all  these  schemes,  and  after  having  had  the 
cruelty  of  keeping  me  upon  the  rack  for  a  long  time, 
he  at  last  extricated  me.  Parents  are  always  stingy 
towards  their  poor  children;  my  mother  intended  to 
have  given  me  five  hundred  louis  d'or,12  but  she  had 
kept  back  fifty  as  well  for  some  little  repairs  in  the 
abbey,  as  to  pay  for  praying  for»me.  Brinon  had  the 
charge  of  the  other  fifty,  with  strict  injunctions  not  to 
speak  of  them,  unless  upon  some  urgent  necessity.  And 
this  you  see  soon  happened. 

"Thus  you  have  a  brief  account  of  my  first  adventure. 
Play  has  hitherto  favoured  me ;  for,  since  my  arrival,  I 
have  had,  at  one  time,  after  paying  all  my  expenses, 
fifteen  hundred  louis  d'or.13  Fortune  is  now  again  be- 
come unfavourable,  we  must  mend  her.  Our  cash  runs 
low ;  we  must,  therefore,  endeavour  to  recruit." 

"Nothing  is  more  easy,"  said  Matta;  "it  is  only  to 
find  out  such  another  dupe  as  the  horse-dealer  at 
Lyons;  but  now  I  think  of  it,  has  not  the  faithful 
Brinon  some  reserve  for  the  last  extremity?  Faith, 
the  time  is  now  come,  and  we  cannot  do  better  than  to 
make  use  of  it." 

"Your  raillery  would  be  very  seasonable,"  said  the 
Chevalier,  "if  you  knew  how  to  extricate  us  out  of  this 
difficulty.  You  must  certainly  have  an  overflow  of 
wit,  to  be  throwing  it  away  upon  every  occasion  as 
at  present.  What  the  devil !  will  you  always  be  banter- 
"Pistoles.  "About  £1425. 


28         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

ing,  without  considering  what  a  serious  situation  we 
are  reduced  to.  Mind  what  I  say,  I  will  go  to-morrow 
to  the  headquarters,  I  will  dine  with  the  Count  de 
Cameran,  and  I  will  invite  him  to  supper."  "Where  ?" 
said  Matta.  "Here,"  said  the  Chevalier.  "You  are 
mad,  my  poor  friend,"  replied  Matta.  "This  is  some 
such  project  as  you  formed  at  Lyons:  you  know  we 
have  neither  money  nor  credit ;  and,  to  re-establish  our 
circumstances,  you  intend  to  give  a  supper." 

"Stupid  fellow!"  said  the  Chevalier,  "is  it  possible, 
that,  so  long  as  we  have  been  acquainted,  you  should 
have  learned  no  more  invention.  The  Count  de  Cam- 
eran plays  at  quinze,  and  so  do  I.  We  want  money. 
He  has  more  than  he  knows  what  to  do  with.  I  will 
bespeak  a  splendid  snpper;  he  shall  pay  for  it.  Send 
your  maitre-d'hotel  to  me,  and  trouble  yourself  no  fur- 
ther, except  in  some  precautions,  which  it  is  necessary 
to  take  on  such  an  occasion."  "What  are  they?"  said 
Matta.  "I  will  tell  you,"  said  the  Chevalier ;  "for  I  find 
one  must  explain  to  you  things  that  are  as  clear  as 
noonday. 

"You  command  the  guards  that  are  here,  don't  you  ? 
As  soon  as  night  comes  on,  you  shall  order  fifteen  or 
twenty  men,  under  the  command  of  your  sergeant  La 
Place,  to  be  under  armS,  and  to  lay  themselves  flat  on 
the  ground,  between  this  place  and  the  headquarters." 
"What  the  devil?"  cried  Matta.  "an  ambuscade?  God 
forgive  me,  I  believe  you  intend  to  rob  the  poor  Savoy- 
ard. If  that  be  your  intention,  I  declare  I  will  have 
nothing  to  say  to  it."  "Poor  devil !"  said  the  Chevalier, 
"the  matter  is  this ;  it  is  very  likely  that  we  shall  win 
his  money.  The  Piedmontese,  though  otherwise  good 
fellows,  are  apt  to  be  suspicious  and  distrustful.  He 
commands  the  horse.  You  know  you  cannot  hold 
your  tongue,  and  are  very  likely  to  let  slip  some  jest 
or  other  that  may  vex  him.  Should  he  take  it  into  his 


COUNT  DE   GRAMONT  2Q 

head  that  he  is  cheated,  and  resent  it,  who  knows  what 
the  consequences  might  be  ?  for  he  is  commonly  attend- 
ed by  eight  or  ten  horsemen.  Therefore,  however  much 
as  he  may  be  provoked  at  his  loss,  it  is  proper  to  be  in 
such  a  situation  as  not  to  dread  his  resentment." 

"Embrace  me,  my  dear  Chevalier,"  said  Matta,  hold- 
ing his  sides  and  laughing;  "embrace  me,  for  thou  art 
not  to  be  matched.  What  a  fool  I  was  to  think,  when 
you  tallied  to  me  of  taking  precautions,  that  nothing 
more  was  necessary  than  to  prepare  a  table  and  cards, 
or  perhaps  to  provide  some  false  dice !  I  should  never 
have  thought  of  supporting  a  man  who  plays  at  quinze 
by  a  detachment  of  foot :  I  must,  indeed,  confess  that 
you  are  already  a  great  soldier." 

The  next  day  everything  happened  as  the  Chevalier 
Gramont  had  planned  it;  the  unfortunate  Cameran  fell 
into  the  snare.  They  supped  in  the  most  agreeable 
manner  possible:  Matta  drank  five  or  six  bumpers  to 
drown  a  few  scruples  which  made  him  somewhat  un- 
easy. The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  shone  as  usual,  and 
almost  made  his  guest  die  with  laughing,  whom  he  was 
soon  after  to  make  very  serious,  and  the  good-natured 
Cameran  ate  like  a  man  whose  affections  were  divided 
between  good  cheer  and  a  love  of  play;  that  is  to  say, 
he  hurried  down  his  victuals,  that  he  might  not  lose 
any  of  the  precious  time  which  he  had  devoted  to 
quinze. 

Supper  being  done,  the  Sergeant  La  Place  posted  his 
ambuscade,  and  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  engaged  his 
man.  The  perfidy  of  Cerise,  and  the  high-crowned  hat, 
were  still  fresh  in  remembrance,  and  enabled  him  to  get 
the  better  of  a  few  grains  of  remorse,  and  conquer  some 
scruples  which  arose  in  his  mind.  Matta,  unwilling  to 
be  a  spectator  of  violated  hospitality,  sat  down  in  an 
easy  chair,  in  order  to  fall  asleep,  while  the  Chevalier 
was  stripping  the  poor  Count  of  his  money. 


30         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

They  only  staked  three  or  four  pistoles  at  first, 
just  for  amusement;  but  Cameran  having  lost  three 
or  four  times,  he  staked  high,  and  the  game  became 
serious.  He  still  lost,  and  became  outrageous;  the 
cards  flew  about  the  room,  and  the  exclamations  awoke 
Matta. 

As  his  head  was  heavy  with  sleep,  and  hot  with  wine, 
he  began  to  laugh  at  the  passion  of  the  Piedmontese, 
instead  of  consoling  him.  "Faith,  my  poor  Count," 
said  he,  "if  I  were  in  your  place,  I  would  play  no 
more."  "Why  so?"  said  the  other.  '"I  don't  know," 
said  he,  "but  my  heart  tells  me  that  your  ill-luck  will 
continue."  "I  will  try  that,"  said  Cameran,  calling  for 
fresh  cards.  "Do  so,"  said  Matta,  and  fell  asleep  again. 
It  was  but  for  a  short  time.  All  cards  were  equally 
unfortunate  for  the  loser.  He  held  none  but  tens  or 
court-cards;  and  if  by  chance  he  had  quinze,  he  was 
sure  to  be  the  weaker  hand,  and  therefore  lost  it.  Again 
he  stormed.  "Did  not  I  tell  you  so?"  said  Matta,  start- 
ing out  of  his  sleep.  "All  your  storming  is  in  vain; 
as  long  as  you  play  you  will  lose.  Believe  me,  the 
shortest  follies  are  the  best.  Leave  off,  for  the  devil 
take  me  if  it  is  possible  for  you  to  win."  "Why?"  said 
Cameran,  who  began  to  be  impatient.  "Do  you  wish 
to  know  ?"  said  Matta ;  "why,  faith,  it  is  because  we  are 
cheating  you." 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  was  provoked  at  so  ill- 
timed  a  jest,  more  especially  as  it  carried  along  with 
it  some  appearance  of  truth.  "Mr.  Matta,"  said  he, 
"do  you  think  it  can  be  very  agreeable  for  a  man  who 
plays  with  such  ill-luck  as  the  Count,  to  be  pestered 
with  your  insipid  jests?  For  my  part,  I  am  so  weary 
of  the  game  that  I  would  desist  immediately,  if  he  was 
not  so  great  a  loser."  Nothing  is  more  dreaded  by  a 
losing  gamester  than  such  a  threat ;  and  the  Count,  in  a 
softened  tone,  told  the  Chevalier  that  Mr.  Matta  might 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  31 

say  what  he  pleased,  if  he  did  not  offend  him ;  that  as 
to  himself,  it  did  not  give  him  the  smallest  uneasiness. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  gave  the  Count  far  better 
treatment  than  he  himself  had  experienced  from  the 
Swiss  at  Lyons ;  for  he  played  upon  credit  as  long  as 
he  pleased,  which  Cameran  took  so  kindly,  that  he  lost 
fifteen  hundred  pistoles,  and  paid  them  the  next  morn- 
ing. As  for  Matta,  he  was  severely  reprimanded  for 
the  intemperance  of  his  tongue.  All  the  reason  he  gave 
for  his  conduct  was,  that  he  made  it  a  point  of  con- 
science not  to  suffer  the  poor  Savoyard  to  be  cheated 
without  informing  him  of  it.  "Besides,"  said  he,  "it 
would  have  given  me  pleasure  to  have  seen  my  infantry 
engaged  with  his  horse,  if  he  had  been  inclined  to 
mischief." 

This  adventure  having  recruited  their  finances,  for- 
tune favoured  them  the  remainder  of  the  campaign,  and 
the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  to  prove  that  he  had  only 
seized  upon  the  Count's  money  by  way  of  reprisal,  and 
to  indemnify  himself  for  the  losses  he  had  sustained 
at  Lyons,  began  from  this  time  to  make  the  same  use 
of  his  money,  that  he  has  been  known  to  do  since  upon 
all  occasions.  He  found  out  the  distressed  in  order 
to  relieve  them;  officers  who  had  lost  their  equipages 
in  the  war,  or  their  money  at  play ;  soldiers  who  were 
disabled  in  the  trenches;  in  short  every  one  felt  the 
influence  of  his  benevolence:  but  his  manner  of  con- 
ferring a  favour  exceeded  even  the  favour  itself. 

Every  man  possessed  of  such  amiable  qualities  must 
meet  with  success  in  all  his  undertakings.  The  soldiers 
knew  his  merits  and  adored  him.  The  generals  were 
sure  to  meet  him  in  every  scene  of  action,  and  sought 
his  company  at  other  times.  As  soon  as  fortune  de- 
clared for  him,  his  first  care  was  to  make  restitution, 
by  desiring  Cameran  to  go  halves  in  all  parties  where 
the  odds  were  in  his  favour. 


32         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

An  inexhaustible  fund  of  vivacity  and  good-humour 
gave  a  certain  air  of  novelty  to  whatever  he  either  said 
or  did.  I  know  not  on  what  occasion  it  was  that  Mon- 
sieur de  Turenne,  towards  the  end  of  the  siege,  com- 
manded a  separate  body.  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
went  to  visit  him  at  his  new  quarters,  where  he  found 
fifteen  or  twenty  officers.  M.  de  Turenne  was  naturally 
fond  of  merriment,  and  the  Chevalier's  presence  was 
sure  to  inspire  it.  He  was  much  pleased  with  this  visit, 
and  by  way  of  acknowledgment,  would  have  engaged 
him  to  play. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  in  returning  him  thanks, 
said  that  he  had  learned  from  his  tutor,  that  when 
a  man  went  to  see  his  friends,  it  was  neither  prudent 
to  leave  his  own  money  behind  him,  nor  civil  to  carry 
off  theirs.  "Truly,"  said  Monsieur  de  Turenne,  "y°u 
will  find  neither  deep  play  nor  much  money  among 
us ;  but,  that  it  may  not  be  said  that  we  suffered  you 
to  depart  without  playing,  let  us  stake  every  one  a 
horse." 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  agreed.  Fortune,  who 
had  followed  him  to  a  place  wnere  he  did  not  think 
he  should  have  any  need  of  her,  made  him  win  fifteen 
or  sixteen  horses,  by  way  of  joke;  but  seeing  some 
countenances  disconcerted  at  the  loss,  "Gentlemen," 
said  he,  "I  should  be  sorry  to  see  you  return  on  foot 
from  your  general's  quarters ;  it  will  be  enough  for  me 
if  you  send  me  your  horses  to-morrow,  except  one, 
which  I  give  for  the  cards." 

The  valet-de-chambre  thought  he  was  bantering.  "I 
speak  seriously,"  said  the  Chevalier,  "I  give  you  a 
horse  for  the  cards ;  and,  what  is  more,  take  whichever 
you  please,  except  my  own."  "Truly,"  said  Monsieur 
de  Turenne,  "I  am  vastly  pleased  with  the  novelty  of 
the  thing;  for  I  don't  believe  that  a  horse  was  ever 
before  given  for  the  cards." 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  3* 

Trino  surrendered  at  last.  The  Baron  de  Batteville,* 
who  had  defended  it  valiantly,  and  for  a  long  time, 
obtained  a  capitulation  worthy  of  such  a  resistance. 
I  do  not  know  whether  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  had 
any  share  in  the  capture  of  this  place ;  but  I  know  very 
well,  that  during  a  -more  glorious  reign,  and  with 
armies  ever  victorious,  his  intrepidity  and  address  have 
been  the  cause  of  taking  others  since,  even  under  the 
eye  of  his  master,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  sequel  of  these 
Memoirs. 

"Correctly  speaking,  Watteville  from  Wattenveil  in  ThurgO' 
via.  This  officer  appears  to  have  been  the  same  person  who  was 
afterwards  ambassador  from  Spain  to  the  Court  of  Great 
Britain,  where  he  offended  the  French  Court,  by  claiming  pre- 
cedence of  their  ambassador,  Count  d'Estrades,  on  the  public 
entry  of  the  Swedish  ambassador  into  London,  on  3oth  Sep- 
tember 1661  (vide  Pepys'  Diary).  On  this  occasion  the  Court 
of  France  compelled  its  rival  of  Spain  to  submit  to  the  mortify- 
ing circumstance  of  acknowledging  the  French  superiority.  To 
commemorate  this  important  victory,  Louis  XIV.  caused  a  medal 
to  be  struck,  representing  the  Spanish  ambassador,  the  Marquis 
de  Fuente,  making  the  declaration  to  that  king,  "No  concurrer 
con  los  ambassadores  des  de  Francia,"  with  this  inscription, 
"Jus  prascedendi  assertum,"  and  under  it,  "Hispaniorum  ex- 
cusatio  coram  xxx  legatis  principum,  1662."  Evelyn  drew  up  an 
account  of  the  fray  by  royal  command,  which  is  given  at  the  end 
of  his  Diary.  See  also  Jusserand's  French  Ambassador. 
Clarendon,  speaking  of  Baron  de  Watteville,  says  he  was  born 
in  Burgundy,  in  the  Spanish  quarters,  and  bred  a  soldier,  in 
which  profession  he  was  an  officer  of  note,  and  at  that  time  was 
governor  of  St.  Sebastian,  and  of  that  province.  "  He  seemed  a 
rough  man,  and  to  have  more  of  the  camp,  but,  in  truth,  knew 
the  intrigues  of  a  court  better  than  most  Spaniards;  and,  except 
when  his  passion  surprised  him,  was  wary  and  cunning  in  his 
negotiation.  He  lived  with  less  reservation  and  more  jollity 
than  the  ministers  of  that  crown  used  to  do,  and  drew  such  of 
the  Court  to  his  table  and  conversation  as  he  observed  to  be 
loud  talkers,  and  confident  enough  in  the  King's  presence" 
(Continuation  of  Clarendon,  p.  84.) 


CHAPTER    IV 

MILITARY  glory  is  at  most  but  one-half  of  the 
accomplishments  which  distinguish  heroes. 
Love  must  give  the  finishing  stroke,  and 
adorn  their  character  by  the  difficulties  they  encounter, 
the  temerity  of  their  enterprises,  and  finally,  by  the 
lustre  of  success.  We  have  examples  of  this,  not  only 
in  romances,  but  also  in  the  genuine  histories  of  the 
most  famous  warriors,  and  the  most  celebrated  con- 
querors. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  and  Matta,  who  did  not 
think  much  of  these  examples,  were,  however,  of  opin- 
ion, that  it  would  be  very  agreeable  to  refresh  them- 
selves after  the  fatigues  of  the  siege  of  Trino,  by  form- 
ing some  other  sieges,  at  the  expense  of  the  beauties 
and  the  husbands  of  Turin.  As  the  campaign  had  fin- 
ished early,  they  thought  they  should  have  time  to 
perform  some  exploits  before  the  bad  weather  obliged 
them  to  repass  the  mountains. 

They  sallied  forth,  therefore,  not  unlike  Amadis  de 
Gaul  or  Don  Galaor  after  they  had  been  dubbed 
knights,  eager  in  their  search  after  adventures  in  love, 
war.  and  enchantments.  They  were  greatly  superior 
to  those  two  brothers,  who  only  knew  how  to  cleave 
in  twain  giants,  to  break  lances,  and  to  carry  off  fair 
damsels  behind  them  on  horseback,  without  saying  a 
single  word  to  them;  whereas  our  heroes  were  adepts 
at  cards  and  dice,  of  which  the  others  were  totally 
ignorant. 

They  went  to  Turin,  met  with  an  agreeable  re- 
ception, and  were  greatly  distinguished  at  Court. 

34 


COUNT    D"E    GRAMONT  35 

Could  it  be  otherwise?  They  were  young  and  hand- 
some ;  they  had  wit  at  command,  and  spent  their  money 
liberally.  In  what  country  will  not  a  man  succeed, 
possessing  such  advantages?  As  Turin  was  at  that 
time  the  seat  of  gallantry  and  of  love,  two  strangers 
of  this  description,  who  were  always  cheerful,  brisk, 
and  lively,  could  not  fail  to  please  the  ladies  of  the 
Court. 

Though  the  men  of  Turin  were  extremely  handsome, 
they  were  not,  however,  possessed  of  the  art  of  pleas- 
ing. They  treated  their  wives  with  respect,  and  wer^ 
courteous  to  strangers.  Their  wives,  still  more  hand- 
some, were  full  as  courteous  to  strangers,  and  less  re- 
spectful to  their  husbands. 

Madame  Royale,1  a  worthy  daughter  of  Henry  IV., 
rendered  her  little  court  the  most  agreeable  in  the 
world.  She  inherited  such  of  her  father's  virtues  as 
compose  the  proper  ornament  of  her  sex;  and  with 
regard  to  what  are  termed  the  foibles  of  great  souls, 
her  Highness  had  in  no  wise  degenerated. 

The  Count  de  Tanes  was  her  prime  minister.  It 
was  not  difficult  to  conduct  affairs  of  state  during  his 
administration.  No  complaints  were  alleged  against 
him;  and  the  princess,  satisfied  with  his  conduct  her- 
self, was,  above  all,  glad  to  have  her  choice  approved 

1  Christina,  second  daughter  of  Henry  IV.,  married  to  Victor 
Amadeus,  Prince  of  Piedmont,  afterwards  Duke  of  Savoy.  She 
seems  to  have  been  well  entitled  to  the  character  here  given  of 
her.  Keysler,  in  his  Travels,  vol.  i.  p.  239,  speaking  of  a  fine 
villa,  called  La  Vigne1  de  Madame  Royale,  near  Turin,  says : 
"  During  the  minority  under  the  regent  Christina,  both  the 
house  and  garden  were  often  the  scenes  of  riot  and  debauchery. 
On  this  account,  in  the  king's  advanced  age,  when  he  was,  as  it 
were,  inflamed  with  an  external  flame  of  religion,  with  which 
possibly  the  admonitions  of  his  father-confessor  might  concur, 
this  place  became  so  odious  to  him,  that,  upon  the  death  of 
Madame  Royale,  he  bestowed  it  on  the  hospital."  She  died  in 
1663. 

1  Probably  "  La  Venerie  "  mentioned  on  p.  38. 

2 — Memoirs  VoL  4 


36         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

by  her  whole  Court,  where  people  lived  nearly  accord- 
ing to  the  manners  and  customs  of  ancient  chivalry. 

The  ladies  had  each  a  professed  lover,  for  fashion's 
sake,  besides  volunteers,  whose  numbers  were  unlim- 
ited. The  declared  admirers  wore  their  mistresses' 
liveries,  their  arms,  and  sometimes  even  took  their 
names.  Their  office  was,  never  to  quit  them  in  public, 
and  never  to  approach  them  in  private;  to  be  their 
squires  upon  all  occasions,  and,  in  jousts  and  tourna- 
ments, to  adorn  their  lances,  their  housings,  and  their 
coats,  with  the  ciphers  and  the  colours  of  their  dul- 
cineas. 

Matta  was  far  from  being  averse  to  gallantry;  but 
would  have  liked  it  more  simple  than  as  it  was  practised 
at  Turin.  The  ordinary  forms  would  not  have  troubled 
him;  but  he  found  here  a  sort  of  superstition  in  the 
ceremonies  and  worship  of  love,  which  he  thought  very 
inconsistent:  however,  as  he  had  submitted  his  con- 
duct in  that  matter  to  the  direction  of  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont,  he  was  obliged  to  follow  his  example,  and 
to  conform  to  the  customs  of  the  country. 

They  enlisted  themselves  at  the  same  time  in  the 
service  of  two  beauties,  whose  former  squires  gave 
them  up  immediately  from  motives  of  politeness.  The 
Chevalier  de  Gramont  chose  Mademoiselle  de  Saint- 
Germain,  and  told  Matta  to  offer  his  services  to 
Madame  de  Senantes.  Matta  consented,  though  he 
liked  the  other  better;  but  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
persuaded  him  that  Madame  de  Senantes  was  more 
suitable  for  him.  As  he  had  reaped  advantage  from 
the  Chevalier's  talents  in  the  first  projects  they  had 
formed,  he  resolved  to  follow  his  instructions  in  love, 
as  he  had  done  his  advice  in  play. 

Mademoiselle  de  Saint-Germain  was  in  the  bloom 
of  youth;  her  eyes  were  small,  but  very  bright  and 
sparkling,  and,  like  her  hair,  were  black;  her  com- 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  37 

plexion  was  lively  and  clear,  though  not  fair;  she  had 
an  agreeable  mouth,  two  fine  rows  of  teeth,  a  neck  as 
handsome  as  one  could  wish,  and  a  most  delightful 
shape;  she  had  a  particular  elegance  in  her  elbows, 
which,  however,  she  did  not  show  to  advantage;  her 
hands  were  rather  large  and  not  very  white ;  her  feet, 
though  not  of  the  smallest,  were  well  shaped.  She 
trusted  to  Providence,  and  used  no  art  to  set  off  those 
graces  which  she  had  received  from  nature ;  but,  not- 
withstanding her  negligence  in  the  embellishment  of 
her  charms,  there  was  something  so  lively  in  her  per- 
son, that  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  was  caught  at  first 
sight.  Her  wit  and  humour  corresponded  with  her 
other  qualities,  being  quite  easy  and  perfectly  charm- 
ing; she  was  all  mirth,  all  life,  all  complaisance,  and 
politeness,  and  all  was  natural,  and  always  the  same 
without  any  variation. 

The  Marchioness  de  Senantes*  was  esteemed  fair, 
and  she  might  have  enjoyed,  if  she  had  pleased,  the 
reputation  of  having  red  hair,  had  she  not  rather  chosen 
to  conform  to  the  taste  of  the  age  in  which  she  lived 
than  to  follow  that  of  the  ancients :  she  had  all  the 
advantages  of  red  hair  without  any  of  the  incon- 
veniences; a  constant  attention  to  her  person  served 
as  a  corrective  to  the  natural  defects  of  her  complexion. 
After  all,  what  does  it  signify,  whether  cleanliness  be 
owing  to  nature  or  to  art  ?  it  argues  an  invidious  temper 
to  be  very  inquisitive  about  it.  She  had  a  great  deal  of 
wit,  a  good  memory,  more  reading,  and  a  still  greater 
inclination  towards  tenderness. 

She  had  a  husband  whom  it  would  have  been  crim- 
inal even  in  chastity  to  spare.  He  piqued  himself  upon 
being  a  Stoic,  and  gloried  in  being  slovenly  and  dis- 

'Walpole  said  the  family  of  Senantes  still  remained  in  Pied- 
mont in  his  time,  and  were  represented  by  the  Marquis  de 
Carailles. 


38 

gusting  in  honour  of  his  profession.  In  this  he  suc- 
ceeded to  admiration;  for  he  was  very  fat,  so  that  he 
perspired  almost  as  much  in  winter  as  in  summer. 
Erudition  and  brutality  seemed  to  be  the  most  con- 
spicuous features  of  his  character,  and  were  displayed 
in  his  conversation,  sometimes  together,  sometimes  al- 
ternately, but  always  disagreeably ;  he  was  not  jealous, 
and  yet  he  was  troublesome ;  he  was  very  well  pleased 
to  see  attentions  paid  to  his  wife,  provided  more  were 
paid  to  him. 

As  soon  as  our  adventurers  had  declared  themselves, 
the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  arrayed  himself  in  green 
habiliments,  and  dressed  Matta  in  blue,  these  being  the 
favourite  colours  of  their  new  mistresses.  They  en- 
tered immediately  upon  duty.  The  Chevalier  learned 
and  practised  all  the  ceremonies  of  this  species  of  gal- 
lantry, as  if  he  always  had  been  accustomed  to  them ; 
but  Matta  commonly  forgot  one-half,  and  was  not 
over  perfect  in  practising  the  other.  He  never  could 
remember  that  his  office  was  to  promote  the  glory,  and 
not  the  interest,  of  his  mistress. 

The  Duchess  of  Savoy  gave  the  very  next  day  an 
entertainment  at  La  Venerie,"  where  all  the  ladies  were 
invited.  The  Chevalier  was  so  agreeable  and  divert- 
ing, that  he  made  his  mistress  almost  die  with  laugh- 
ing. Matta,  in  leading  his  lady  to  the  coach,  squeezed 
her  hand,  and  at  their  return  from  the  promenade  he 

"This  place  is  thus  described  by  Keysler,  Travels,  vol.  i.  p. 
235:  "The  palace  most  frequented  by  the  royal  family  is  La 
Venerie,  the  court  generally  continuing  there  from  the  spring 
to  December.  It  is  about  a  league  from  Turin :  the  road  that 
leads  to  it  is  well  paved,  and  the  greatest  part  of  it  planted  with 
trees  on  each  side :  it  is  not  always  in  a  direct  line,  but  runs  a 
little  winding  between  fine  meadows,  fields,  and  vineyards." 
After  describing  the  palace  as  it  then  was,  he  adds:  The 
palace  garden  at  present  consists  only  of  hedges  and  walks, 
whereas  formerly  it  had  fine  water-works  and  grottos,  besides 
the  fountain  of  Hercules  and  the  temple  of  Diana,  of  which  a 
description  may  be  seen  in  the  '  Nouveau  Theatre  de  Piedmont' 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  39 

begged  of  her  to  pity  his  sufferings.  This  was  pro- 
ceeding rather  too  precipitately,  and  although  Madame 
de  Senantes  was  not  destitute  of  the  natural  compas- 
sion of  her  sex,  she  nevertheless  was  shocked  at  the 
familiarity  of  this  treatment.  She  thought  herself 
obliged  to  show  some  degree  of  resentment,  and  pull- 
ing away  her  hand,  which  he  had  pressed  with  still 
greater  fervency  upon  this  declaration,  she  went  up 
to  the  royal  apartments  without  even  looking  at  her 
new  lover.  Matta,  never  thinking  that  he  had  offended 
her,  suffered  her  to  go,  and  went  in  search  of  some 
company  to  sup  with  him :  nothing  was  more  easy  for 
a  man  of  his  disposition;  he  soon  found  what  he 
wanted,  sat  a  long  time  at  table  to  refresh  himself 
after  the  fatigues  of  love,  and  went  to  bed  completely 
satisfied  that  he  had  performed  his  part  to  perfection. 

During  all  this  time  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  ac- 
quitted himself  towards  Mademoiselle  de  Saint-Germain 
with  universal  applause;  and  without  remitting  his 
assiduities,  he  found  means  to  shine,  as  they  went 
along,  in  the  relation  of  a  thousand  entertaining  anec- 
dotes, which  he  introduced  in  the  general  conversation. 
Her  Royal  Highness*  heard  them  with  pleasure,  and 
the  solitary  Senantes  likewise  attended  to  them.  He 
perceived  this,  and  quitted  his  mistress  to  inquire  what 
she  had  done  with  Matta. 

"I!"  said  she,  "I  have  done  nothing  with  him;  but 
I  don't  know  what  he  would  have  done  with  me  if  I 
had  been  obliging  enough  to  listen  to  his  most  humble 
solicitations." 

(1700).  But  now  nothing  of  these  remains,  being  gone  to  ruin, 
partly  by  the  ravages  of  the  French,  and  partly  by  the  king's 
order  that  they  should  be  demolished,  to  make  room  for  som'e- 
thing  else ;  but  those  vacuities  have  not  yet,  and  probably  will 
not  very  soon  be  filled  up."  [La  Vigne  ("the  Vineyard") 
mentioned  in  footnote,  p.  35,  is  evidently  the  same  place.] 
4  The  Duchess  of  Savoy. 


40         THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

She  then  told  him  in  what  manner  his  friend  had 
treated  her  the  very  second  day  of  their  acquaintance. 

The  Chevalier  could  not  forbear  laughing  at  it;  he 
told  her  that  Matta  was  rather  too  unceremonious,  but 
yet  she  would  like  him  better  as  their  intimacy  more 
improved,  and  for  her  consolation  he  assured  her  that 
he  would  have  spoken  in  the  same  manner  to  her  Royal 
Highness  herself;  however,  he  would  not  fail  to  give 
him  a  severe  reprimand.  He  went  the  next  morning 
into  his  room  for  that  purpose;  but  Matta  had  gone 
out  early  in  the  morning  on  a  shooting  party,  to  which 
he  had  been  invited  by  his  supper  companions  on  the 
preceding  evening.  At  his  return  he  took  a  brace  of 
partridges  and  went  to  his  mistress.  Being  asked 
whether  he  wished  to  see  the  Marquis,  he  said  no ;  and 
the  Swiss  porter  telling  him  his  lady  was  not  at  home, 
he  left  his  partridges,  and  desired  him  to  present  them 
to  his  mistress  from  him. 

The  Marchioness  was  at  her  toilet,  and  was  decorat- 
ing her  head  with  all  the  grace  she  could  devise  to 
captivate  Matta,  at  the  moment  he  was  denied  admit- 
tance; she  knew  nothing  of  the  matter;  but  her  hus- 
band knew  every  particular.  He  had  taken  it  in 
dudgeon  that  the  first  visit  was  not  paid  to  him,  and, 
as  he  was  resolved  that  it  should  not  be  paid  to  his  wife, 
the  Swiss  had  received  his  orders,  and  had  almost  been 
beaten  for  receiving  the  present  which  had  been  left. 
T.he  partridges,  however,  were  immediately  sent  back, 
and  Matta,  without  examining  into  the  cause,  was 
glad  to  have  them  again.  He  went  to  Court  without 
ever  changing  his  clothes,  or  in  the  least  considering  he 
ought  not  to  appear  there  without  his  lady's  colours. 
He  found  her  becomingly  dressed ;  her  eyes  appeared 
to  him  more  than  usually  sparkling,  and  her  whole 
person  altogether  divine.  He  began  from  that  day  to 
be  much  pleased  with  himself  for  his  complaisance  to 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  41 

the  Chevalier  de  Gramont;  however,  he  could  not  help 
remarking  that  she  looked  but  coldly  upon  him.  This 
appeared  to  him  a  very  extraordinary  return  for  his 
services,  and,  imagining  that  she  was  unmindful  of 
her  weighty  obligations  to  him,  he  entered  into  con- 
versation with  her,  and  severely  reprimanded  her 
for  having  sent  back  his  partridges  with  so  much  in- 
difference. 

She  did  not  understand  what  he  meant ;  and  highly 
offended  that  he  did  not  apologise,  after  the  reprimand 
which  she  concluded  him  to  have  received,  told  him 
that  he  certainly  had  met  with  ladies  of  very  com- 
plying dispositions  in  his  travels,  as  he  seemed  to  give 
to  himself  airs  that  she  was  by  no  means  accustomed 
to  endure. 

Matta  desired  to  know  wherein  he  could  be  said 
to  have  given  himself  any.  "Wherein?"  said  she: 
"the  second  day  that  you  honoured  me  with  your 
attentions,  you  treated  me  as  if  I  had  been  your  humble 
servant  for  a  thousand  years ;  the  first  time  that  I  gave 
you  my  hand  you  squeezed  it  as  violently  as  you  were 
able.  After  this  commencement  of  your  courtship, 
I  got  into  my  coach,  and  you  mounted  your  horse ;  but 
instead  of  riding  by  the  side  of  the  coach,  as  any 
reasonable  gallant  would  have  done,  no  sooner  did  a 
hare  start  from  her  form,  than  you  immediately  gal- 
loped full  speed  after  her;  having  regaled  yourself. 
during  the  promenade,  by  taking  snuff,  without 
ever  deigning  to  bestow  a  thought  on  me.  The 
only  proof  you  gave  me,  on  your  return,  that  you 
recollected  me,  was  by  soliciting  me  to  surrender  my 
reputation  in  terms  polite  enough,  but  very  explicit. 
And  now  you  talk  to  me  of  having  been  shooting 
partridges,  and  of  some  visit  or  other,  which,  I  sup- 
pose, you  have  been  dreaming  of,  as  well  as  of  all 
the  rest." 


42         THE    COURT    OF   CHARLES   II 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  now  advanced,  to  the 
interruption  of  this  whimsical  dialogue.5  Matta  was  re- 
buked for  his  forwardness,  and  his  friend  took  abun- 
dant pains  to  convince  him  that  his  conduct  bordered 
more  upon  insolence  than  familiarity.  Matta  endeav- 
oured to  exculpate  himself,  but  succeeded  ill.  His  mis- 
tress took  compassion  upon  him,  and  consented  to  admit 
his  excuses  for  the  manner,  rather  than  his  repentance 
for  the  fact,  and  declared  that  it  was  the  intention  alone 
which  could  either  justify  or  condemn  in  such  cases; 
that  it  was  very  easy  to  pardon  those  transgressions 
which  arise  from  excess  of  tenderness,  but  not  such 
as  proceeded  from  too  great  a  presumption  of  success. 
Matta  swore  that  he  only  squeezed  her  hand  from  the 
violence  of  his  passion,  and  that  he  had  been  driven, 
by  necessity,  to  ask  her  to  relieve  it;  that  he  was 
yet  a  novice  in  the  arts  of  solicitation;  that  he  could 
not  possibly  think  her  more  worthy  of  his  affection, 
after  a  month's  service,  than  at  the  present  moment; 
and  that  he  entreated  her  to  cast  away  an  occasional 
thought  upon  him  when  her  leisure  admitted.  The 
Marchioness  was  not  offended ;  she  saw  very  well  that 
she  must  require  an  implicit  conformity  to  the  estab- 
lished rule  of  decorum,  when  she  had  to  deal  with  such 
a  character;  and  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  after  this 
sort  of  reconciliation,  went  to  look  after  his  own  affair 
with  Mademoiselle  de  Saint-Germain. 

His  concern  was  not  the  offspring  of  mere  good 
nature,  nay,  it  was  the  reverse;  for  no  sooner  did  he 
perceive  that  the  Marchioness  looked  with  an  eye  of 
favour  upon  him,  than  this  conquest,  appearing  to  him 
to  be  more  easy  than  the  other,  he  thought  it  was 
prudent  to  take  advantage  of  it,  for  fear  of  losing  the 
opportunity,  and  that  he  might  not  have  spent  all  his 

'Arrived  at  this  point  of  the  conversation   (Vizetelly's  trans- 
lation) . 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  43 

time  to  no  purpose,  in  case  he  should  prove  unsuccess- 
ful with  the  little  Saint-Germain. 

In  the  meantime,  in  order  to  maintain  that  authority 
which  he  had  usurped  over  the  conduct  of  his  friend, 
he,  that  very  evening,  notwithstanding  what  had  been 
already  said,  reprimanded  him  for  presuming  to  appear 
at  Court  in  his  morning  suit,  and  without  his  mistress's 
badge ;  for  not  having  had  the  wit  or  prudence  to  pay 
his  first  visit  to  the  Marquis  de  Senantes,  instead  of 
consuming  his  time,  to  no  purpose,  in  inquiries  for  the 
lady ;  and,  to  conclude,  he  asked  him  what  the  devil  he 
meant  by  presenting  her  with  a  brace  of  miserable  red 
partridges. 

"And  why  not?"  said  Matta:  "ought  they  to  have 
been  blue,  too,  to  match  the  cockade  and  sword- 
knots  you  made  me  wear  the  other  day?  Plague  not 
me  with  your  nonsensical  whimsies :  my  life  on  it,  in 
one  fortnight  your  equal  in  foppery  and  folly  will  not 
be  found  throughout  the  confines  of  Turin ;  but  to  reply 
to  your  questions,  I  did  not  call  upon  Monsieur  de 
Senantes,  because  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  him,  and 
because  he  is  of  a  species  of  animals  which  I  dislike, 
and  always  shall  dislike.  As  for  you,  you  appear  quite 
charmed  with  being  decked  out  in  green  ribands,  with 
writing  letters  to  your  mistress,  and  filling  your  pockets 
with  citrons,  pistachios,  and  such  sort  of  stuff,  with 
which  you  are  always  cramming  the  poor  girl's  mouth, 
against  her  will.  You  hope  to  succeed  by  chanting 
ditties  composed  in  the  days  of  Corisande  and  of  Henry 
IV.,  which  you  will  swear  yourself  have  made  upon 
her.  Happy  in  practising  the  ceremonials  of  gallantry, 
you  have  no  ambition  for  the  essentials.  Very  well : 
every  one  has  a  particular  way  of  acting,  as  well  as  a 
particular  taste :  yours  is  to  trifle  in  love ;  and.  provided 
you  can  make  Mademoiselle  de  Saint-Germain  laugh, 
you  are  satisfied.  As  for  my  part,  I  am  persuaded, 


44         THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES   II 

that  women  here  are  made  of  the  same  materials  as  in 
other  places ;  and  I  do  not  think  that  they  can  be  might- 
ily offended,  if  one  sometimes  leaves  off  trifling,  to 
come  to  the  point.  However,  if  the  Marchioness  is  not 
of  this  way  of  thinking,  she  may  e'en  provide  for  her- 
self elsewhere,  for  I  can  assure  her,  that  I  shall  not  long 
act  the  part  of  her  squire." 

This  was  an  unnecessary  menace;  for  the  Mar- 
chioness in  reality  liked  him  very  well,was  nearly  of  the 
same  way  of  thinking  herself,  and  wished  for  nothing 
more  than  to  put  his  gallantry  to  the  test.  But  Matta 
proceeded  upon  a  wrong  plan ;  he  had  conceived  such 
an  aversion  for  her  husband,  that  he  could  not  prevail 
upon  himself  to  make  the  smallest  advance  towards  his 
good  graces.  He  was  given  to  understand  that  he  ought 
to  begin  by  endeavouring  to  lull  the  dragon  to  sleep, 
before  he  could  gain  possession  of  the  treasure;  but 
this  was  all  to  no  purpose,  though,  at  the  same  time, 
he  could  never  see  his  mistress  but  in  public.  This 
made  him  impatient,  and  as  he  was  lamenting  his  ill- 
fortune  to  her  one  day :  "Have  the  goodness,  madame," 
said  he,  "to  let  me  know  where  you  live  :  there  is  never 
a  day  that  I  do  not  call  upon  you,  at  least,  three  or  four 
times,  without  ever  being  blessed  with  a  sight  of  you." 
"I  generally  sleep  at  home,"  replied  she,  laughing,  "but 
I  must  tell  you,  that  you  will  never  find  me  there,  if 
you  do  not  first  pay  a  visit  to  the  Marquis :  I  am  not 
mistress  of  the  hbuse.  I  do  not  tell  you,"  continued 
she,  "that  he  is  a  man  whose  acquaintance  any  one 
would  very  impatiently  covet  for  his  conversation :  on 
the  contrary,  I  agree  that  his  humour  is  fantastical,  and 
his  manners  not  of  the  pleasing  cast ;  but  there  is  noth- 
ing so  savage  and  inhuman  which  a  little  care,  atten- 
tion, and  complaisance  may  not  tame  into  docility, 
must  repeat  to  you  some  verses  upon  the  subject:  I 
have  got  them  by  heart,  because  they  contain  a  little 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  45 

advice,  which  you  may  accommodate,  if  you  please, 
to  your  own  case. 

RONDEAU 

"  Keep  in  mind  these  maxims  rare. 
You  who  hope  to  win  the  fair ; 
Who  are,  or  would  esteemed  be, 
The  quintessence  of  gallantry. 
That  fopp'ry,  grinning,   and  grimace, 
And  fertile  store  of  common-place; 
That  oaths  as  false  as  dicers  swear, 
And  iv*ry  teeth,  and  scented  hair; 
That  trinkets,  and  the  pride  of  dress, 
Can  only  give  your  scheme  success. 

Keep  in  mind. 

"Hast  thy  charmer  e'er  an  aunt? 
Then  learn  the  rules  of  woman's  cant, 
And  forge  a  tale,  and  swear  you  read  it, 
Such  as,  save  woman,  none  would  credit: 
Win  o'er  her  confidante  and  pages 
By  gold,  for  this  a  golden  age  is ; 
And  should  it  be  her  wayward  fate, 
To  be  encumbered  with  a  mate, 
A  dull,  old  dotard  should  he  be, 
That  dulness  claims  thy  courtesy. 

Keep  in  mind." 

"Truly,"  said  Matta,  "the  song  may  say  what  i\ 
pleases,  but  I  cannot  put  it  in  practice :  your  husband 
is  far  too  exquisite  a  monster  for  me.  Why,  what  a 
plaguy  odd  ceremony  do  you  require  of  us  in  this 
country,  if  we  cannot  pay  our  compliments  to  the  wife 
without  being  in  love  with  the  husband !" 

The  Marchioness  was  much  offended  at  this  answer ; 
and  as  she  thought  she  had  done  enough  in  pointing 
out  to  him  the  path  which  would  conduct  him  to  suc- 
cess, if  he  had  deserved  it,  she  did  not  think  it  worth 
while  to  enter  into  any  further  explanation;  since  he 
refused  to  cede,  for  her  sake,  so  trifling  an  objection : 
from  this  instant  she  resolved  to  have  done  with  him. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  had  taken  leave  of  his 


46         THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

mistress  nearly  at  the  same  time :  the  ardour  of  his  pur- 
suit was  extinguished.  It  was  not  that  Mademoiselle 
de  Saint-Germain  was  less  worthy  than  hitherto  of  his 
attentions:  on  the  contrary  her  attractions  visibly  in- 
creased. She  retired  to  her  pillow  with  a  thousand 
charms,  and  ever  rose  from  it  with  additional  beauty : 
the  phrase  of  increasing  in  beauty  as  she  increased  in 
years  seemed  to  have  been  purposely  made  for  her. 
The  Chevalier  could  not  deny  these  truths,  but  yet  he 
could  not  find  his  account  in  them:  a  little  less  merit, 
with  a  little  less  discretion,  would  have  been  more 
agreeable.  He  perceived  that  she  attended  to  him  with 
pleasure,  that  she  was  diverted  with  his  stories  as  much 
as  he  could  wish,  and  that  she  received  his  billets  and 
presents  without  scruple;  but  then  he  also  discovered 
that  she  did  not  wish  to  proceed  any  further.  He  had 
exhausted  every  species  of  address  upon  her,  and  all  to 
no  purpose:  her  attendant  was  gained:  her  family, 
charmed  with  the  music  of  his  conversation  and  his 
great  attention,  were  never  happy  without  him.  In 
short,  he  had  reduced  to  practice  the  advice  contained 
in  the  Marchioness's  song,  and  everything  conspired  to 
deliver  the  little  Saint-Germain  into  his  hands,  if  the 
little  Saint-Germain  had  herself  been  willing :  but,  alas ! 
she  was  not  inclined.  It  was  in  vain  he  told  her  the 
favour  he  desired  would  cost  her  nothing;  and  that 
since  these  treasures  were  rarely  comprised  in  the  for- 
tune a  lady  brings  with  her  in  marriage,  she  would 
never  find  any  person,  who,  by  unremitting1  tenderness, 
unwearied  attachment,  and  inviolable  secrecy,  would 
prove  more  worthy  of  them  than  himself.  He  then  told 
her  no  husband  was  ever  able  to  convey  a  proper  idea 
of  the  sweets  of  love,  and  that  nothing  could  be  more 
different  than  the  passionate  fondness  of  a  lover,  always 
tender,  always  affectionate,  yet  always  respectful,  and 
the  careless  indifference  of  a  husband. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  47 

Mademoiselle  de  Saint-Germain,  not  wishing  to  take 
the  matter  in  a  serious  light,  that  she  might  not  be 
forced  to  resent  it,  answered,  that  since  it  was  gen- 
erally the  custom  in  her  country  to  marry,  she  thought 
it  was  right  to  conform  to  it,  without  entering  into  the 
knowledge  of  those  distinctions,  and  those  marvellous 
particulars,  which  she  did  not  very  well  understand, 
and  of  which  she  did  not  wish  to  have  any  further 
explanation ;  that  she  had  submitted  to  listen  to  him  this 
one  time,  but  desired  he  would  never  speak  to  her  again 
in  the  same  strain,  since  such  sort  of  conversation  was 
neither  entertaining  to  her,  nor  could  be  serviceable  to 
him.  Though  no  one  was  ever  more  facetious  than 
Mademoiselle  de  Saint-Germain,  she  yet  knew  how  to 
assume  a  very  serious  air,  whenever  occasion  required 
it.  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  soon  saw  that  she  was 
in  earnest ;  and  finding  it  would  cost  him  a  great  deal  of 
time  to  effect  a  change  in  her  sentiments,  he  was  so 
far  cooled  in  this  pursuit,  that  he  only  made  use  of 
it  to  hide  the  designs  he  had  upon  the  Marchioness 
de  Senantes. 

He  found  this  lady  much  disgusted  at  Matta's  want 
of  complaisance;  and  his  seeming  contempt  for  her 
erased  every  favourable  impression  which  she  had  once 
entertained  for  him.  While  she  was  in  this  humour, 
the  Chevalier  told  her  that  her  resentment  was  just ;  he 
exaggerated  the  loss  which  his  friend  had  sustained ;  he 
told  her  that  her  charms  were  a  thousand  times  superior 
to  those  of  the  little  Saint-Germain,  and  requested  that 
favour  for  himself  which  his  friend  did  not  deserve. 
He  was  soon  favourably  heard  upon  this  topic ;  and  as 
soon  as  they  were  agreed,  they  consulted  upon  two 
measures  necessary  to  be  taken,  the  one  to  deceive  her 
husband,  the  other  his  friend,  which  was  not  very  diffi- 
cult: Matta  was  not  at  all  suspicious:  and  the  stupid 
Senantes,  towards  whom  the  Chevalier  had  already  be- 


48         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

haved  as  Matta  had  refused  to  do,  could  not  be  easy 
without  him.  This  was  much  more  than  was  wanted ; 
for  as  soon  as  ever  the  Chevalier  was  with  the  Mar- 
chioness, her  husband  immediately  joined  them  out  of 
politeness;  and  on  no  account  would  have  left  them 
alone  together,  for  fear  they  should  grow  weary  of  each 
other  without  him. 

Matta,  who  all  this  time  was  entirely  ignorant  that 
he  was  disgraced,  continued  to  serve  his  mistress  in  his 
own  way.  She  had  agreed  with  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont,  that  to  all  appearance  everything  should  be 
carried  on  as  before ;  so  that  the  Court  always  believed 
that  the  Marchioness  only  thought  of  Matta,  and  that 
the  Chevalier  was  entirely  devoted  to  Mademoiselle  de 
Saint-Germain. 

There  were  very  frequently  little  lotteries  for  trin- 
kets; and  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  always  tried  his 
fortune,  and  was  sometimes  fortunate ;  and  under  pre- 
tence of  the  prizes  he  had  won,  he  bought  a  thousand 
things  which  he  indiscreetly  gave  to  the  Marchioness, 
and  which  she  still  more  indiscreetly  accepted :  the  little 
Saint-Germain  very  seldom  received  anything.  There 
are  meddling  whisperers  everywhere:  remarks  were 
made  upon  these  proceedings ;  and  the  same  person  that 
made  them  communicated  them  likewise  to  Madem- 
oiselle de  Saint-Germain.  She  pretended  to  laugh, 
but  in  reality  was  piqued.  It  is  a  maxim  religiously 
observed  by  the  fair  sex,  to  envy  each  other  those  in- 
dulgences which  themselves  refuse.  She  took  this  very 
ill  of  the  Marchioness.  On  the  other  hand,  Matta  was 
asked  if  he  was  not  old  enough  to  make  his  own  pres- 
ents himself  to  the  Marchioness  de  Senantes,  without 
sending  them  by  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont.  This 
roused  him;  for  of  himself,  he  would  never  have  per- 
ceived it :  his  suspicions,  however,  were  but  slight,  and 
he  was  willing  to  have  them  removed.  "I  must  con- 


COUNT    DE   GRAMONT  49 

fess,"  said  he  to  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  "that  they 
make  love  here  quite  in  a  new  style ;  a  man  serves  here 
without  reward :  he  addresses  himself  to  the  husband 
when  he  is  in  love  with  the  wife,  and  makes  presents 
to  another  man's  mistress,  to  get  into  the  good  graces 
of  his  own.  The  Marchioness  is  much  obliged  to  you 

for "  "It  is  you  who  are  obliged,"  replied  the 

Chevalier,  "since  this  was  done  on  your  account:  I 
was  ashamed  to  find  you  had  never  yet  thought  of  pre- 
senting her  with  any  trifling  token  of  your  attention: 
do  you  know  that  the  people  of  this  Court  have  such 
extraordinary  notions,  as  to  think  that  it  is  rather 
owing  to  inadvertency  that  you  never  yet  have  had  the 
spirit  to  make  your  mistress  the  smallest  present?  For 
shame!  how  ridiculous  it  is,  that  you  can  never  think 
for  yourself !" 

Matta  took  this  rebuke,  without  making  any  answer, 
being  persuaded  that  he  had  in  some  measure  deserved 
it :  besides,  he  was  neither  sufficiently  jealous,  nor  suffi- 
ciently amorous,  to  think  any  more  of  it ;  however,  as 
it  was  necessary  for  the  Chevalier's  affairs  that  Matta 
should  be  acquainted  with  the  Marquis  de  Senantes,  he 
plagued  him  so  much  about  it,  that  at  last  he  complied. 
His  friend  introduced  him,  and  his  mistress  seemed 
pleased  with  this  proof  of  complaisance,  though  she 
was  resolved  that  he  should  gain  nothing  by  it ;  and  the 
husband,  being  gratified  with  a  piece  of  civility  which 
he  had  long  expected,  determined,  that  very  evening, 
to  give  them  a  supper  at  a  little  country  seat  of  his, 
on  the  banks  of  the  river,  very  near  the  city. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  answering  for  them  both, 
accepted  the  offer ;  and  as  this  was  the  only  one  Matta 
would  not  have  refused  from  the  Marquis,  he  likewise 
consented.  The  Marquis  came  to  convey  them  in  his 
carriage  at  the  hour  appointed;  but  he  found  only 
Matta.  The  Chevalier  had  engaged  himself  to  play,  on 


50         THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

purpose  that  they  might  go  without  him:  Matta  was 
for  waiting  for  him,  so  great  was  his  fear  of  being  left 
alone  with  the  Marquis;  but  the  Chevalier  having  sent 
to  desire  them  to  go  on  before,  and  that  he  would 
be  with  them  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  game,  poor 
Matta  was  obliged  to  set  out  with  the  man  who,  of  all 
the  world,  was  most  offensive  to  him.  It  was  not  the 
Chevalier's  intention  quickly  to  extricate  Matta  out  of 
this  embarrassment :  he  no  sooner  knew  that  they  were 
gone,  than,  he  waited  on  the  Marchioness,  under  pre- 
tence of  still  finding  her  husband,  that  they  might  all 
go  together  to  supper. 

The  plot  was  in  a  fair  way ;  and  as  the  Marchioness 
was  of  opinion  that  Matta's  indifference  merited  no  bet- 
ter treatment  from  her,  she  made  no  scruple  of  acting 
her  part  in  it :  she  therefore  waited  for  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont  with  intentions  so  much  the  more  favourable, 
as  she  had  for  a  long  time  expected  him,  and  had  some 
curiosity  to  receive  a  visit  from  him  in  the  absence  of 
her  husband.  We  may  therefore  suppose  that  this  first 
opportunity  would  not  have  been  lost  if  Mademoiselle 
de  Saint-Germain  had  not  unexpectedly  come  in,  almost 
at  the  same  time  with  the  Chevalier. 

She  was  more  handsome  and  more  entertaining  that 
day  than  she  had  ever  been  before ;  however,  she  ap- 
peared to  them  very  ugly  and  very  tiresome.  She  soon 
perceived  that  her  company  was  disagreeable,  and  being 
determined  that  they  should  not  be  out  of  humour  with 
her  for  nothing,  after  having  passed  above  a  long  half 
hour  in  diverting  herself  with  their  uneasiness,  and 
in  playing  a  thousand  monkey  tricks,  which  she  plainly 
saw  could  never  be  more  unseasonable,  she  pulled  off 
her  hood,  scarf,  and  all  that  part  of  her  dress  which 
ladies  lay  aside,  when  in  a  familiar  manner  they  intend 
to  pass  the  day  anywhere.  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
cursed  her  in  his  heart,  while  she  continued  to  torment 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  51 

him  for  being  in  such  ill-humour  in  such  good  company. 
At  last  the  Marchioness,  who  was  as  much  vexed  as  he 
was,  said  rather  drily  that  she  was  obliged  to  wait  on 
her  Royal  Highness.  Mademoiselle  de  Saint-Germain 
told  her  that  she  would  have  the  honour  to  accompany 
her,  if  it  would  not  be  disagreeable :  she  took  not  the 
smallest  notice  of  her  offer,  and  the  Chevalier,  finding 
that  it  would  be  entirely  useless  to  prolong  his  visit  at 
that  time,  retired  with  a  good  grace. 

As  soon  as  he  had  left  the  house,  he  sent  one  of  his 
scouts  to  desire  the  Marquis  to  sit  down  to  table  with 
his  company  without  waiting  for  him,  because  the  game 
might  not  perhaps  be  finished  as  soon  as  he  expected, 
but  that  he  would  be  with  him  before  supper  was  over. 
Having  despatched  this  messenger,  he  placed  a  sentinel 
at  the  Marchioness's  door,  in  hopes  that  the  tedious 
Saint-Germain  might  go  out  before  her;  but  this  was 
in  vain,  for  his  spy  came  and  told  him,  after  an  hour's 
impatience  and  suspense,  that  they  were  gone  out  to- 
gether. He  found  there  was  no  chance  of  seeing  her 
again  that  day,  everything  falling  out  contrary  to  his 
wishes;  he  was  forced,  therefore,  to  leave  the  Mar- 
chioness, and  go  in  quest  of  the  Marquis. 

While  these  things  were  going  on  in  the  city,  Matta 
was  not  much  diverted  in  the  country :  as  he  was 
prejudiced  against  the  Marquis,  all  that  he  said  dis- 
pleased him.  He  cursed  the  Chevalier  heartily  for  the 
tete-a-tete  which  he  had  procured  him ;  and  he  was  upon 
the  point  of  going  away,  when  he  found  that  he  was 
to  sit  down  to  supper  without  any  other  company. 

However,  as  his  host  was  very  choice  in  his  enter- 
tainments, and  had  the  best  wine  and  the  best  cook  in 
all  Piedmont,  the  sight  of  the  first  course  appeased  him ; 
and  eating  most  voraciously,  without  paying  any  atten- 
tion to  the  Marquis,  he  flattered  himself  that  the  supper 
would  end  without  any  dispute;  but  he  was  mistaken. 


52         THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

When  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  was  at  first  en- 
deavouring to  bring  about  an  intercourse  between  the 
Marquis  and  Matta,  he  had  given  a  very  advantageous 
character  of  the  latter,  to  make  the  former  more  desir- 
ous of  his  acquaintance ;  and  in  the  display  of  a  thou- 
sand other  accomplishments,  knowing  what  an  infatu- 
ation the  Marquis  had  for  the  very  name  of  erudition, 
he  assured  him  that  Matta  was  one  of  the  most  learned 
men  in  Europe. 

The  Marquis,  therefore,  from  the  moment  they  sat 
down  to  supper,  had  expected  some  stroke  of  learning 
from  Matta,  to  bring  his  own  into  play;  but  he  was 
much  out  in  his  reckoning.  No  one  had  read  less,  no 
one  thought  less,  and  no  one  had  ever  spoken  so  little 
at  an  entertainment  as  he  had  done.  As  he  did  not 
wish  to  enter  into  conversation,  he  opened  his  mouth 
only  to  eat,  or  ask  for  wine. 

The  other,  being  offended  at  a  silence  which  ap- 
peared to  him  affected,  and  wearied  with  having 
uselessly  attacked  him  upon  other  subjects,  thought  he 
might  get  something  out  of  him  by  changing  the  dis- 
course to  love  and  gallantry;  and  therefore,  to  begin 
the  subject,  he  accosted  him  in  this  manner : 

"Since  you  are  my  wife's  gallant "  "I!"  said 

Matta,  who  wished  to  carry  it  discreetly:  "those  who 
told  you  so,  told  a  damned  lie."  "Zounds,  sir,"  said 
the  Marquis,  "you  speak  in  a  tone  which  does  not  at 
all  become  you,  for  I  would  have  you  to  know, 
notwithstanding  your  contemptuous  airs,  that  the 
Marchioness  de  Senantes  is  perhaps  as  worthy  of  your 
attentions  as  any  of  your  French  ladies,  and  that  I 
have  known  some  greatly  your  superiors,  who  have 
thought  it  an  honour  to  serve  her."  "Very  well," 
said  Matta,  "I  think  she  is  very  deserving,  and  since 
you  insist  upon  it,  I  am  her  servant  and  gallant,  to 
oblige  you." 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  53 

"You  think,  perhaps,"  continued  the  other,  "that 
the  same  custom  prevails  in  this  country  as  in  your 
own,  and  that  the  ladies  have  lovers,  with  no  other 
intentions  than  to  grant  them  favours:  undeceive 
yourself,  if  you  please,  and  know,  likewise,  that  even 
if  such  events  were  frequent  in  this  Court,  I  should 
not  be  at  all  uneasy."  "Nothing  can  be  more  civil," 
said  Matta ;  "but  wherefore  would  you  not  ?"  "I  will 
tell  you  why,"  replied  he.8  "I  am  well  acquainted 
with  the  affection  my  wife  entertains  for  me:  I  am 
acquainted  with  her  discretion  towards  all  the  world; 
and,  what  is  more,  I  am  acquainted  with  my  own 
merit" 

"You  have  a  most  uncommon  acquaintance,  then," 
replied  Matta;  "I  congratulate  you  upon  it;  I  have 
the  honour  to  drink  it  in  a  bumper."  The  Marquis 
pledged  him ;  but  seeing  that  the  conversation  dropped 
on  their  ceasing  to  drink,  after  two  or  three  healths, 
he  wished  to  make  a  second  attempt,  and  attack  Matta 
on  his  strong  side,  that  is  to  say,  on  his  learning. 

He  desired  him,  therefore,  to  tell  him,  at  what  time 
he  thought  the  Allobroges  came  to  settle  in  Piedmont. 
Matta,  who  wished  him  and  his  Allobroges  at  the  devil, 
said,  that  it  must  be  in  the  time  of  the  civil  wars. 
"I  doubt  that,"  said  the  other.  "Just  as  you  like," 
said  Matta.  "Under  what  consulate?"  replied  the 
Marquis.  "Under  that  of  the  League,"  said  Matta, 
"when  the  Guises  brought  the  Lansquenets  into 
France;  but  what  the  devil  does  that  signify?" 

The  Marquis  was  tolerably  warm,  and  naturally 
savage,  so  that  God  knows  how  the  conversation 
would  have  ended,  if  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  had 
not  unexpectedly  come  in  to  appease  them.  It  was 
some  time  before  he  could  find  out  what  their  debate 
was;  for  the  one  had  forgotten  the  questions,  and 
"The  Marquis. 


54         THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

the  other  the  answers,  which  had  disobliged  him, 
in  order  to  reproach  the  Chevalier  with  his  eternal 
passion  for  play,  which  made  him  always  uncertain. 
The  Chevalier,  who  knew  that  he  was  still  more 
culpable  than  they  thought,  bore  it  all  with  patience, 
and  condemned  himself  more  than  they  desired.  This 
appeased  them;  and  the  entertainment  ended  with 
greater  tranquillity  than  it  had  begun.  The  conversa- 
tion was  again  reduced  to  order;  but  he  could  not 
enliven  it  as  he  usually  did.  He  was  in  very  ill 
humor,  and  as  he  pressed  them  every  minute  to  rise 
from  table,  the  Marquis  was  of  opinion  that  he  had 
lost  a  great  deal.  Matta  said,  on  the  contrary,  that  he 
had  won;  but  for  want  of  precautions  had  made  per- 
haps an  unfortunate  retreat;  and  asked  him  if  he  had 
not  stood  in  need  of  Sergeant  La  Place,  with  his  am- 
buscade. 

This  piece  of  history  was  beyond  the  comprehen- 
sion of  the  Marquis,  and  being  afraid  that  Matta 
might  explain  it,  the  Chevalier  changed  the  discourse, 
and  was  for  rising  from  table;  but  Matta  would  not 
consent  to  it.  This  effected  a  reconciliation  between 
him  and  the  Marquis,  who  thought  this  was  a  piece  of 
civility  intended  for  him;  however,  it  was  not  for 
him,  but  for  his  wine,  to  which  Matta  had  taken  a 
prodigious  liking. 

The  Duchess,7  who  knew  the  character  of  the 
Marquis,  was  charmed  with  the  account  which  the 
Chevalier  de  Gramont  gave  her  of  the  entertainment 
and  conversation.  She  sent  for  Matta  to  know  the 
truth  of  it  from  himself.  He  confessed,  that  before 
1  the  Allobroges  were  mentioned  the  Marquis  was  for 
quarrelling  with  him,  because  he  was  not  in  love  with 
his  wife. 

Their  acquaintance  having  begun  in  this  manner, 
T  Madame  Royale. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  55 

all  the  esteem  which  the  Marquis  had  formerly  ex- 
pressed for  the  Chevalier  seemed  now  directed 
towards  Matta.  He  went  every  day  to  pay  Matta  a 
visit,  and  Matta  was  every  day  with  his  wife.  This 
did  not  at  all  suit  the  Chevalier:  he  repented  of  his 
having  chid  Matta,  whose  assiduity  now  interrupted 
all  his  schemes;  and  the  Marchioness  was  still  more 
embarrassed.  Whatever  wit  a  man  may  have,  it  will 
never  please  where  his  company  is  disliked;  and  she 
repented  that  she  had  been  formerly  guilty  of  some 
trifling  advances  towards  him. 

Matta  began  to  find  charms  in  her  person,  and 
might  have  found  the  same  in  her  conversation,  if  she 
had  been  inclined  to  display  them ;  but  it  is  impossible 
to  be  in  good  humour  with  persons  who  thwart  our 
designs.  While  his  passion  increased,  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont  was  solely  occupied  in  endeavouring  to 
find  out  some  method,  by  which  he  might  accomplish 
his  own  intrigue;  and  this  was  the  stratagem  which 
he  put  in  execution  to  clear  the  coast,  by  removing, 
at  one  and  the  same  time,  both  the  lover  and  the 
husband. 

He  told  Matta  that  they  ought  to  invite  the 
Marquis  to  supper  at  their  lodgings,  and  he  would 
take  upon  himself  to  provide  everything  proper  for 
the  occasion.  Matta  desired  to  know  if  it  was  to 
play  at  quinze,  and  assured  him  that  he  should  take 
care  to  render  abortive  any  intention  he  might  have  to 
engage  in  play,  and  leave  him  alone  with  the  greatest 
blockhead  in  all  Europe.  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
did  not  entertain  any  such  thought,  being  persuaded 
that  it  would  be  impossible  to  take  advantage  of  any 
such  opportunity,  in  whatever  manner  he  might  take 
his  measures;  and  that  they  would  seek  for  him  in 
every  corner  of  the  city  rather  than  allow  him  the  least 
repose.  His  whole  attention  was  therefore  employed 


56         THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

in  rendering  the  entertainment  agreeable,  in  finding 
out  means  of  prolonging  it,  in  order  ultimately  to 
kindle  some  dispute  between  the  Marquis  and  Matta. 
For  this  purpose  he  put  himself  in  the  best  humour 
in  the  world,  and  the  wine  produced  the  same  effect 
on  the  rest  of  the  company. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  expressed  his  concern 
that  he  had  not  been  able  to  give  the  Marquis  a 
little  concert,  as  he  had  intended  in  the  morning;  for 
the  musicians  had  been  all  pre-engaged.  Upon  this 
the  Marquis  undertook  to  have  them  at  his  country- 
house  the  following  evening,  and  invited  the  same 
company  to  sup  with  him  there.  Matta  asked  what 
the  devil  they  wanted  with  music,  and  maintained  that 
it  was  of  no  use  on  such  occasions  but  for  women  who 
had  something  to  say  to  their  lovers,  while  the  fiddles 
prevented  them  from  being  overheard,  or  for  fools 
who  had  nothing  to  say  when  the  music  ended.  They 
ridiculed  all  his  arguments:  the  party  was  fixed  for 
the  next  day,  and  the  music  was  voted  by  the  majority 
of  voices.  The  Marquis,  to  console  Matta,  as  well  as 
to  do  honour  to  the  entertainment,  toasted  a  great 
many  healths.  Matta  was  more  ready  to  listen  to  his 
arguments  on  this  topic  than  in  a  dispute;  but  the 
Chevalier,  perceiving  that  a  little  would  irritate  them, 
desired  nothing  more  earnestly  than  to  see  them 
engaged  in  some  new  controversy.  It  was  in  vain 
that  he  had  from  time  to  time  started  some  subject 
of  discourse  with  this  intention;  but  having  luckily 
thought  of  asking  what  was  his  lady's  maiden  name, 
Senantes,  who  was  a  great  genealogist,  as  all  fools  are 
who  have  good  memories,  immediately  began  tracing 
out  her  family,  by  an  endless,  confused  string  of 
lineage.  The  Chevalier  seemed  to  listen  to  him  with 
great  attention ;  and  perceiving  that  Matta  was  almost 
out  of  patience,  he  desired  him  to  attend  to  what  the 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  57 

Marquis  was  saying,  for  that  nothing  could  be  more 
entertaining.  "All  this  may  be  very  true,"  said  Matta ; 
"but  for  my  part,  I  must  confess,  if  I  were  married. 
I  should  rather  choose  to  inform  myself  who  was  the 
real  father  of  my  children,  than  who  were  my  wife's 
grandfathers."  The  Marquis,  smiling  at  this  rude- 
ness, did  not  leave  off  until  he  had  traced  back  the 
ancestors  of  his  spouse,  from  line  to  line,  as  far  as 
Yolande  de  Senantes :  after  this  he  offered  to  prove,  in 
less  than  half  an  hour,  that  the  Gramonts  came  origi- 
nally from  Spain.  "Very  well,"  said  Matta,  "and 
pray  what  does  it  signify  to  us  from  whence  the 
Gramonts  are  descended  ?  Do  not  you  know,  sir,  that 
it  is  better  to  know  nothing  at  all,  than  to  know  too 
much?" 

The  Marquis  maintained  the  contrary  with  great 
warmth,  and  was  preparing  a  formal  argument  to 
prove  that  an  ignorant  man  is  a  fool ;  but  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont,  who  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
Matta,  saw  very  clearly  that  he  would  send  the  logician 
to  the  devil  before  he  should  arrive  at  the  conclusion 
of  his  syllogism:  for  which  reason,  interposing  as 
soon  as  they  began  to  raise  their  voices,  he  told  them 
it  was  ridiculous  to  quarrel  about  an  affair  in  itself  so 
trivial,  and  treated  the  matter  in  a  serious  light,  that 
it  might  make  the  greater  impression.  Thus  supper 
terminated  peaceably,  owing  to  the  care  he  took  to 
suppress  all  disputes,  and  to  substitute  plenty  of  wine 
in  their  stead. 

The  next  day  Matta  went  to  the  chase,  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont  to  the  bagnio,  and  the  Marquis  to  his 
country-house.  While  the  latter  was  making  the 
necessary  preparations  for  his  guests,  not  forgetting 
the  music,  and  Matta  pursuing  his  game  to  get  an 
appetite,  the  Chevalier  was  meditating  on  the  execu- 
tion of  his  project. 


58         THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

As  soon  as  he  had  regulated  his  plan  of  operations 
in  his  own  mind,  he  privately  sent  anonymous  intelli- 
gence to  the  officer  of  the  guard  at  the  palace  that  the 
Marquis  de  Senantes  had  had  some  words  with  Mon- 
sieur de  Matta  the  preceding  night  at  supper ;  that  the 
one  had  gone  out  in  the  morning,  and  the  other  could 
not  be  found  in  the  city. 

Madame  Royale,  alarmed  at  this  advice,  immedi- 
ately sent  for  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont.  He  appeared 
surprised  when  her  Highness  mentioned  the  affair :  he 
confessed,  indeed,  that  some  high  words  had  passed 
between  them,  but  that  he  did  not  believe  either  of 
them  would  have  remembered  them  the  next  day. 
He  said  that  if  no  mischief  had  yet  taken  place,  the 
best  way  would  be  to  secure  them  both  until  the 
morning,  and  that  if  they  could  be  found,  he  would 
undertake  to  reconcile  them,  and  to  obliterate  all 
grievances.  In  this  there  was  no  great  difficulty.  On 
inquiry  at  the  Marquis's  they  were  informed  that  he 
was  gone  to  his  country-house :  there  certainly  he  was, 
and  there  they  found  him;  the  officer  put  him  under 
an  arrest,  without  assigning  any  reason  for  so  doing, 
and  left  him  in  very  great  surprise. 

Immediately  upon  Matta's  return  from  hunting,  her 
Royal  Highness  sent  the  same  officer  to  desire  him  to 
give  her  his  word  that  he  would  not  stir  out  that 
evening.  This  compliment  very  much  surprised  him, 
more  particularly  as  no  reason  was  assigned  for  it.  He 
was  expected  at  a  good  entertainment;  he  was  dying 
with  hunger,  and  nothing  appeared  to  him  more  un- 
reasonable than  to  oblige  him  to  stay  at  home  in  a 
situation  like  the  present;  but  he  had  given  his  word, 
and  not  knowing  to  what  this  might  tend,  his  only 
resource  was  to  send  for  his  friend.  But  his  friend 
did  not  come  to  him  until  his  return  from  the  country. 
He  had  there  found  the  Marquis  in  the  midst  of  his 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  59 

fiddlers,  and  very  much  vexed  to  find  himself  a  pris- 
oner in  his  own  house  on  account  of  Matta,  whom  he 
was  waiting  for  in  order  to  feast  him.  He  complained 
of  him  bitterly  to  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont.  He  said 
that  he  did  not  believe  that  he  had  offended  him ;  but 
that,  since  he  was  very  desirous  of  a  quarrel,  he  desired 
the  Chevalier  to  acquaint  him,  if  he  felt  the  least 
displeasure  on  the  present  occasion,  he  should,  on  the 
very  first  opportunity,  receive  what  is  called  satisfac- 
tion. The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  assured  him  that 
no  such  thought  had  ever  entered  the  mind  of  Matta ; 
that,  on  the  contrary,  he  knew  that  he  very  greatly 
esteemed  him;  that  all  this  could  alone  arise  from  the 
extreme  tenderness  of  his  lady,  who,  being  alarmed 
upon  the  report  of  the  servants  who  waited  at  table, 
must  have  gone  to  her  Royal  Highness,  in  order  to 
prevent  any  unpleasant  consequences ;  that  he  thought 
this  the  more  probable,  as  he  had  often  told  the 
Marchioness,  when  speaking  of  Matta,  that  he  was 
the  best  swordsman  in  France;  for  in  truth  the  poor 
gentleman  had  never  fought  without  having  the  mis- 
fortune of  killing  his  man. 

The  Marquis,  being  a  little  pacified,  said  he  was 
very  much  obliged  to  him,  that  he  would  severely  chide 
his  wife  for  her  unseasonable  tenderness,  and  that  he 
was  extremely  desirous  of  again  enjoying  the  pleasure 
of  his  dear  friend  Matta's  company. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  assured  him  that  he 
would  use  all  his  endeavours  for  that  purpose,  and  at 
the  same  time  gave  strict  charge  to  the  guards  not 
to  let  him  escape  without  orders  from  the  Court,  as 
he  seemed  fully  bent  upon  fighting,  and  they  would 
be  responsible  for  him.  There  was  no  occasion  to  say 
more  to  have  him  strictly  watched,  though  there  was 
no  necessity  for  it. 

One  being  thus  safely  lodged,  his  next  step  was 


60         THE   COURT  OF   CHARLES   II 

to  secure  the  other.  He  returned  immediately  to 
town:  and  as  soon  as  Matta  saw  him,  "What  the 
devil,"  said  he,  "is  the  meaning  of  this  farce  which  I 
am  obliged  to  act  ?  For  my  part,  I  cannot  understand 
the  foolish  customs  of  this  country ;  how  comes  it  that 
they  make  me  a  prisoner  upon  my  parole?"  "How 
comes  it?"  said  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont;  "it  is 
because  you  yourself  are  far  more  unaccountable  than 
all  their  customs;  you  cannot  help  disputing  with  a 
peevish  fellow,  whom  you  ought  only  to  laugh  at; 
some  officious  footman  has  no  doubt  been  talking  of 
your  last  night's  dispute ;  you  were  seen  to  go  out  of 
town  in  the  morning,  and  the  Marquis  soon  after; 
was  not  this  sufficient  to  make  her  Royal  Highness 
think  herself  obliged  to  take  these  precautions?  The 
Marquis  is  in  custody;  they  have  only  required  your 
parole;  so  far,  therefore,  from  taking  the  affair  in  the 
sense  you  do,  I  should  send  very  humbly  to  thank 
her  Highness  for  the  kindness  she  has  manifested 
towards  you  in  putting  you  under  arrest,  since  it  is 
only  on  your  account  that  she  interests  herself  in  the 
affair.  I  shall  take  a  walk  to  the  palace,  where  I  will 
endeavour  to  unravel  this  mystery;  in  the  meantime, 
as  there  is  but  little  probability  that  the  matter  should 
be  settled  this  evening,  you  would  do  well  to  order 
supper,  for  I  shall  come  back  to  you  immediately." 

Matta  charged  him  not  to  fail  to  express  to  her 
Royal  Highness  the  grateful  sense  he  had  of  her 
favour,  though  in  truth  he  as  little  feared  the  Marquis 
as  he  loved  him;  and  it  is  impossible  to  express  the 
degree  of  his  fortitude  in  stronger  terms. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  returned  in  about  half 
an  hour  with  two  or  three  gentlemen  whom  Matta  had 
got  acquainted  with  at  the  chase,  and  who,  upon  the 
report  of  the  quarrel,  waited  upon  him  and  each 
offered  him  separately  his  services  against  the  unas- 


COUNT  DE   GRAMONT  61 

sisted  and  pacific  Marquis.  Matta,  having  returned 
them  his  thanks,  insisted  upon  their  staying  supper, 
and  put  on  his  robe  de  chambre. 

As  soon  as  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  perceived  that 
everything  coincided  with  his  wishes,  and  that  towards 
the  end  of  the  entertainment  the  toasts  went  merrily 
round,  he  knew  he  was  sure  of  his  man  till  next  day : 
then  taking  him  aside  with  the  permission  of  the  com- 
pany, and  making  use  of  a  false  confidence  in  order  to 
disguise  a  real  treachery,  he  acquainted  him,  after 
having  sworn  him  several  times  to  secrecy,  that  he 
had  at  last  prevailed  upon  the  little  Saint-Germain  to 
grant  him  an  interview  that  night;  for  which  reason 
he  would  take  his  leave,  under  pretence  of  going  to 
play  at  Court.  He  therefore  desired  him  fully  to  sat- 
isfy the  company  that  he  would  not  have  left  them  on 
any  other  account,  as  the  Piedmontese  are  naturally 
mistrustful.  Matta  promised  he  would  manage  this 
point  with  discretion ;  that  he  would  make  an  apology 
for  him,  and  that  there  was  no  occasion  for  his  per- 
sonally taking  leave.  Then,  after  congratulating  him 
upon  the  happy  posture  of  his  affairs,  he  sent  him 
away  with  all  the  expedition  and  secrecy  imaginable; 
so  great  was  his  fear  lest  his  friend  should  lose  the 
present  opportunity. 

Matta  then  returned  to  the  company,  much  pleased 
with  the  confidence  which  had  been  placed  in  him,  and 
with  the  share  he  had  in  the  success  of  this  adventure. 
He  put  himself  into  the  best  humour  imaginable  in 
order  to  divert  the  attention  of  his  guests ;  he  severely 
satirised  those,  whose  rage  for  gaming  induced  them 
to  sacrifice  to  it  every  other  consideration;  he  loudly 
ridiculed  the  folly  of  the  Chevalier  upon  this  article, 
and  secretly  laughed  at  the  credulity  of  the  Pied- 
montese, whom  he  had  deceived  with  so  much  inge- 
nuity. 


62         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

It  was  late  at  night  before  the  company  broke  up, 
and  Matta  went  to  bed,  very  well  satisfied  with  what 
he  had  done  for  his  friend;  and,  if  we  may  credit 
appearances,  this  friend  enjoyed  the  fruit  of  his  per- 
fidy. The  amorous  Marchioness  received  him*  like 
one  who  wished  to  enhance  the  value  of  the  favour  she 
bestowed ;  her  charms  were  far  from  being-  neglected ; 
and  if  there  are  any  circumstances  in  which  we  may 
detest  the  traitor  while  we  profit  by  the  treason,  this 
was  not  one  of  them ;  and  however  cautious  the  Chev- 
alier de  Gramont  was  in  his  intrigues,  it  was  not 
owing  to  him  that  the  contrary  was  not  believed;  but 
be  that  as  it  may,  being  convinced  that  in  love  what- 
ever is  gained  by  address  is  gained  fairly,  it  does  not 
appear  that  he  ever  showed  the  smallest  degree  of 
repentance  for  this  trick.  But  it  is  now  time  for  us 
to  take  him  from  the  Court  of  Savoy,  to  see  him  shine 
in  that  of  France. 

'Attired   (Vizetelly's  translation). 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  upon  his  return  to 
France,   sustained,   with  the  greatest  success, 
the  reputation  he  had  acquired  abroad.     Alert 
in  play,  active  and  vigilant  in  love;  sometimes  suc- 
cessful, and  always  feared,  in  his  intrigues;  in  war 
alike  prepared  for  the  events  of  good  or  ill  fortune; 
possessing  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  pleasantry  in  the 
former,  and  full  of  expedients  and  dexterity  in  the 
latter. 

Zealously  attached  to  the  Prince  de  Conde1  from 
inclination,   he   was  a  witness,  and,   if  we   may  be 

'Louis  of  Bourbon,  Duke  d'Enghien  (born  1620).  By  the 
death  of  his  father  in  1646,  Prince  de  Conde.  Of  this  great  man 
Cardinal  de  Retz  says:  "He  was  born  a  general,  which  never 
happened  but  to  Caesar,  to  Spinola,  and  to  himself.  He  has 
equalled  the  first:  he  has  surpassed  the  second.  Intrepidity  is 
one  of  the  least  shining  strokes  in  his  character.  Nature  had 
formed  him  with  a  mind  as  great  as  his  courage.  Fortune,  in 
setting  him  out  in  a  time  of  wars,  has  given  this  last  a  full 
extent  to  work  in :  his  birth,  or  rather  his  education,  in  a  family 
devoted  and  enslaved  to  the  court,  has  kept  the  first  within  too 
straight  bounds.  He  was  not  taught  time  enough  the  great  and 
general  maxims  which  alone  are  able  to  form  men  to  think 
always  consistently.  He  never  had  time  to  learn  them  of  him- 
self, because  he  was  prevented  from  his  youth,  by  the  great 
affairs  that  fell  unexpectedly  to  his  share,  and  by  the  continual 
success  he  met  with.  This  defect  in  him  was  the  cause,  that 
with  the  soul  in  the  world  the  least  inclined  to  evil,  he  has  com- 
mitted injuries:  that  with  the  heart  of  an  Alexander,  he  has, 
like  him,  had  his  failings;  that  with  a  wonderful  understanding, 
he  has  acted  imprudently;  that  having  all  the  qualities  which  the 
Duke  Francis  of  Guise  had,  he  has  not  served  the  state  in  some 
occasions  so  well  as  he  ought;  and  that  having  likewise  all  the 
qualities  of  the  Duke  Henry  of  Guise,  he  has  not  carried  faction 
so  far  as  he  might.  He  could  not  come  up  to  the  height  of  his 

63 


64         THE   COURT  OF  CHARLES  H 

allowed  to  say  it,  his  companion,  in  the  glory  he  had 
acquired  at  the  celebrated  battles  of  Lens,  Nordling- 
uen,  and  Fribourg;1  and  the  details  he  so  frequently 
gave  of  them  were  far  from  diminishing  their  lustre. 

So  long  as  he  had  only  some  scruples  of  conscience, 
and  a  thousand  interests  to  sacrifice,  he  quitted  all  to 
follow  a  man,  whom  strong  motives  and  resentments, 
which  in  some  manner  appeared  excusable,  had  with- 
drawn from  the  paths  of  rectitude.  He  adhered  to  him 
in  his  first  disgrace,  with  a  constancy  of  which  there 
are  few  examples;  but  he  could  not  submit  to  the  in- 
juries which  he  afterwards  received,  and  which  such 
an  inviolable  attachment  so  little  merited.  Therefore, 
without  fearing  any  reproach  for  a  conduct  which 
sufficiently  justified  itself,  as  he  had  formerly  deviated 
from  his  duty  by  entering  into  the  service  of  the 
Prince  de  Conde,  he  thought  he  had  a  right  to  leave 
him  to  return  again  to  his  duty. 

His  peace  was  soon  made  at  Court,  where  many,  far 
more  culpable  than  himself,  were  immediately  received 

merit;  which,  though  'it  be  a  defect,  must  yet  be  owned  to  be  very 
uncommon,  and  only  to  be  found  in  persons  of  the  greatest  abili- 
ties" (Memoirs,  voL  i.  p.  248,  edit  1723) .  He  retired  from  the  army, 
soon  after  the  death  of  Turenne,  to  Chantilly,  "from  whence," 
says  Voltaire,  "he  very  rarely  came  to  Versailles,  to  behold  his 
glory  eclipsed  in  a  place  where  the  courtier  never  regards  any- 
thing but  favour.  He  passed  the  remainder  of  his  days, 
tormented  with  the  gout,  relieving  the  severity  of  his  pains,  and 
employing  the  leisure  of  his  retreat  in  the  conversation  of  men 
of  genius  of  all  kinds,  with  which  France  then  abounded.  ^  He 
was  worthy  of  their  conversation;  as  he  was  not  unacquainted 
•with  any  of  those  arts  and  sciences  in  which  they  shone.  He 
continued  to  be  admired  even  in  his  retreat;  but  at  last  that 
devouring  fire,  which,  in  his  youth,  had  made  him  a  hero, 
impetuous,  and  full  of  passions,  having  consumed  the  strength 
of  his  body,  which  was  naturally  rather  fragile  than  robust,  ^he 
declined  before  his  time ;  and  the  strength  of  his  mind  decaying 
with  that  of  his  body,  there  remained  nothing  of  the  great 
Conde  during  the  last  two  years  of  his  life.  He  died  in  1686" 
(Age  of  Louis  XIV.  chap.  xi.). 
*  These  were  fought  in  the  years  1648,  1645,  and  1644. 


COUNT  DE   GRAMONT  65 

into  favour,  when  they  desired  it ;  for  the  Queen/  still 
terrified  at  the  dangers  into  which  the  civil  wars  had 
plunged  the  State  at  the  commencement  of  her 
regency,  endeavoured  by  lenient  measures  to  conciliate 
the  minds  of  the  people.  The  policy  of  the  minister* 
was  neither  sanguinary  nor  revengeful.  His  favourite 
maxim  was  rather  to  appease  the  minds  of  the  dis- 
contented by  lenity  than  to  have  recourse  to  violent 
measures;  to  be  content  with  losing  nothing  by  the 
war,  without  being  at  the  expense  of  gaining  any 
advantage  from  the  enemy;  to  suffer  his  character  to 
be  very  severely  handled,  provided  he  could  amass 
much  wealth,  and  to  spin  out  the  minority  to  the 
greatest  possible  extent. 

His  avidity  to  heap  up  riches  was  not  alone  confined 
to  the  thousand  different  means,  with  which  he  was 

•Anne  of  Austria,  daughter  of  Philip  III.  of  Spain,  widow  of 
Louis  XIII.,  to  whom  she  was  married  in  1615,  and  mother  of 
Louis  XIV.  She  died  in  1666.  Cardinal  de  Retz  speaks  of  her 
in  the  following  terms:  "The  Queen  had  more  than  anybody 
whom  I  ever  knew,  of  that  sort  of  wit  which  was  necessary  for 
her  not  to  appear  a  fool  to  those  that  did  not  know  her.  She 
had  in  her  more  of  harshness  than  haughtiness ;  more  of  haughti- 
ness than  of  greatness ;  more  of  outward  appearance  than  reality ; 
more  regard  to  money  than  liberality ;  more  of  liberality  than  of 
self-interest;  more  of  self-interest  than  disinterestedness:  she 
was  more  tied  to  persons  by  habit  than  by  affection;  she  had 
more  of  insensibility  than  of  cruelty;  she  had  a  better  memory 
for  injuries  than  for  benefits;  her  intention  towards  piety  was 
greater  than  her  piety;  she  had  in  her  more  of  obstinacy  than  of 
firmness ;  and  more  incapacity  than  of  all  the  rest  which  I  men- 
tioned before"  (Memoirs,  vol.  i.  p.  247). 

*  Cardinal  Mazarin,  who,  during  a  few  of  the  latter  years  of  his 
life,  governed  France.  He  died  at  Vincennes  the  Qth  of  March 
1661,  aged  fifty-nine,  leaving  as  heir  to  his  name  and  property 
the  Marquis  de  la  Meilleraye,  who  married  his  niece,  and  took 
the  title  of  Duke  of  Mazarin.  On  his  death,  Louis  XIV.  and 
the  court  appeared  in  mourning,  an  honour  not  common,  though 
Henry  IV.  had  shown  it  to  the  memory  of  Gabrielle  d'Estrees. 
Voltaire,  who  appears  unwilling  to  ascribe  much  ability  to  the 
Cardinal,  takes  an  opportunity,  on  occasion  of  his  death,  to  make 
the  following  observation :  "We  cannot  refrain  from  combating 
the  opinion,  which  supposes  prodigious  abilities,  and  a  genius 


66         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

furnished  by  his  authority,  and  the  situation  in  which 
he  was  placed.  His  whole  pursuit  was  gain.  He  was 
naturally  fond  of  gaming ;  but  he  only  played  to  enrich 
himself,  and  therefore,  whenever  he  found  an  oppor- 
tunity, he  cheated. 

As  he  found  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  possessed  a 
great  deal  of  wit,  and  a  great  deal  of  money,  he  was 
a  man  according  to  his  wishes,  and  soon  became  one 
of  his  set.  The  Chevalier  soon  perceived  the  artful- 
ness and  dishonesty  of  the  Cardinal,  and  thought  it 
was  allowable  in  him  to  put  in  practice  those  talents 
which  he  had  received  from  nature,  not  only  in  his 
own  defence,  but  even  to  attack  him  whenever  an 
opportunity  offered.  This  would  certainly  be  the  place 
to  mention  these  particulars;  but  who  can  describe 
them  with  such  ease  and  elegance  as  may  be  expected 
by  those  who  have  heard  his  own  relation  of  them? 
Vain  is  the  attempt  to  endeavour  to  transcribe  these 
entertaining  anecdotes :  their  spirit  seems  to  evaporate 
upon  paper;  and  in  whatever  light  they  are  exposed 
the  delicacy  of  their  colouring  and  their  beauty  is  lost. 

It  is  then  enough  to  say,  that  upon  all  occasions 
where  address  was  reciprocally  employed,  the  Cheva- 
lier gained  the  advantage ;  and  that  if  he  paid  his  court 
badly  to  the  minister,  he  had  the  consolation  to  find, 
that  those  who  suffered  themselves  to  be  cheated,  in 
the  end  gained  no  great  advantage  from  their  com- 
plaisance; for  they  always  continued  in  an  abject  sub- 
mission, while  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  on  a  thou- 

almost  divine,  in  those  who  have  governed  empires  with  some 
degree  of  success.  It  is  not  a  superior  penetration  that  makes 
statesmen ;  it  is  their  character.  All  men,  how  inconsiderable 
soever  their  share  of  sense  may  be,  see  their  own  interest  nearly 
alike.  A  citizen  of  Bern  or  Amsterdam,  in  this  respect,  is  equal 
to  Sejanus,  Ximenes,  Buckingham,  Richelieu,  or  Mazarin;  but 
our  conduct  and  our  enterprises  depend  absolutely  on  our  natural 
dispositions,  and  our  success  depends  upon  fortune"  (Age  of 
Louis  XIV.  chap.  v.). 


The  Chevalier  was  so  agreeable  and  diverting,  that  he  made  his 
mistress  almost  die  with  laughing. 

—p.  38 
From  the  painting  by  C,  Delort. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  67 

sand  different  occasions,  never  put  himself  under  the 
least  restraint,  of  which  the  following  is  one  instance  : 

The  Spanish  army,  commanded  by  the  Prince  de 
Conde  and  the  Archduke.6  besieged  Arras.  The  Court 
was  advanced  as  far  as  Peronne.'  The  enemy,  by  the 
capture  of  this  place,  would  have  procured  a  reputa- 
tion for  their  army  of  which  they  were  in  great  need ; 
as  the  French,  for  a  considerable  time  past,  had  evinced 
a  superiority  in  every  engagement. 

The  Prince  supported  a  tottering  party,  as  far  as 
their  usual  inactivity  and  irresolution  permitted  him; 
but  as  in  the  events  of  war  it  is  necessary  to  act  in- 
dependently on  some  occasions,  which,  if  once  suffered 
to  escape,  can  never  be  retrieved,  for  want  of  this 
power  it  frequently  happened  that  his  great  abilities 
were  of  no  avail.  The  Spanish  infantry  had  never 
recovered  itself  since  the  battle  of  Rocroi;1  and  he 
who  had  ruined  them  by  that  victory,  by  fighting 
against  them,  was  the  only  man  who  now,  by  com- 
manding their  army,  was  capable  of  repairing  the 
mischief  he  had  done  them.  But  the  jealousy  of  the 
generals,  and  the  distrust  attendant  upon  their  coun- 
sels, tied  up  his  hands. 

Nevertheless,  the  siege  of  Arras*  was  vigorously 
carried  on.  The  Cardinal  was  very  sensible  how  dis- 
honourable it  would  be  to  suffer  this  place  to  be  taken 
under  his  nose,  and  almost  in  sight  of  the  King.  On 

"Leopold,  brother  of  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  III. 

8  A  small  town,  standing  among  marshes  on  the  river  Somme, 
in  Picardy. 

1  This  famous  battle  was  fought  and  won  iQth  May  1643,  five 
days  after  the  death  of  Louis  XIII. 

8  Voltaire  observes,  that  it  was  the  fortune  of  Turenne  and 
Conde  to  be  always  victorious  when  they  fought  at  the  head  of 
the  French,  and  to  be  vanquished  when  they  commanded  the 
Spaniards.  This  was  Conde's  fate  before  Arras,  25th  August  1654, 
when  he  and  the  Archduke  besieged  that  city.  Turenne  attacked 
them  in  their  camp,  and  forced  their  lines :  the  troops  of  the 
Archduke  were  cut  to  pieces;  and  Conde,  with  two  regiments 

3 — Memoirs  Vol.  4 


68        THE  COURT  OF  CHARLES   II 

the  other  hand,  it  was  very  hazardous  to  attempt  its 
relief,  the  Prince  de  Conde  being-  a  man  who  never 
neglected  the  smallest  precaution  for  the  security  of 
his  lines;  and  if  lines  are  attacked  and  not  forced,  the 
greatest  danger  threatens  the  assailants,  for,  the  more 
furious  the  assault,  the  greater  is  the  disorder  in  the 
retreat ;  and  no  man  in  the  world  knew  so  well  as  the 
Prince  de  Conde  how  to  make  the  best  use  of  an 
advantage.  The  army,  commanded  by  Monsieur  de 
Turenne,  was  considerably  weaker  than  that  of  the 
enemy ;  it  was,  likewise,  the  only  resource  they  had  to 
depend  upon.  If  this  army  was  defeated,  the  loss  of 
Arras  was  not  the  only  misfortune  to  be  dreaded. 

The  Cardinal,  whose  genius  was  happily  adapted  to 
such  junctures,  where  deceitful  negotiations  could  ex- 
tricate him  out  of  difficulties,  was  filled  with  terror  at 
the  sight  of  imminent  danger,  or  of  a  decisive  event 
He  was  of  opinion  to  lay  siege  to  some  other  place,  the 
capture  of  which  might  prove  an  indemnification  for 
the  loss  of  Arras ;  but  Monsieur  de  Turenne,  who  was 
altogether  of  a  different  opinion  from  the  Cardinal, 
resolved  to  march  towards  the  enemy,  and  did  not 
acquaint  him  with  his  intentions  until  he  was  upon  his 
march.  The  courier  arrived  in  the  midst  of  his  dis- 
tress, and  redoubled  his  apprehensions  and  alarms; 
but  there  was  then  no  remedy. 

The  Marshal,  whose  great  reputation  had  gained 
him  the  confidence  of  the  troops,  had  determined  upon 
his  measures  before  an  express  order  from  the  Court 
could  prevent  him.  This  was  one  of  those  occasions 

of  French  and  Lorramers,  a!one  sustained  tht«  efforts  of 
Turenne's  army ;  and,  while  the  Archduke  was  flying,  he  repulsed 
the  Marshal  de  la  Ferte,  and  retreated  victoriously  himself,  by 
covering  the  retreat  of  the  vanquished  Spaniards.  The  King  of 
Spain,  in  his  letter  to  him  after  this  engagement,  had  these 
words:  "I  have  been  informed  that  everything  was  lost,  and 
that  you  have  recovered  everything." 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  69 

in  which  the  difficulties  you  encounter  heighten  the 
glory  of  success.  Though  the  general's  capacity,  in 
some  measure,  afforded  comfort  to  the  Court,  they 
nevertheless  were  upon  the  eve  of  an  event,  which  in 
one  way  or  other  must  terminate  both  their  hopes  and 
their  fears.  While  the  rest  of  the  courtiers  were  giving 
various  opinions  concerning  the  issue,  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont  determined  to  be  an  eye-witness  of  it; 
a  resolution  which  greatly  surprised  the  Court;  for 
those  who  had  seen  as  many  actions  as  he  had,  seemed 
to  be  exempted  from  such  eagerness;  but  it  was  in 
vain  that  his  friends  opposed  his  resolutions. 

The  King  was  pleased  with  his  intention;  and  the 
Queen  appeared  no  less  satisfied.  He  assured  her  that 
he  would  bring  her  good  news;  and  she  promised  to 
embrace  him,  if  he  was  as  good  as  his  word.  The 
Cardinal  made  the  same  promise.  To  the  latter,  how- 
ever, he  did  not  pay  much  attention ;  yet  he  believed  it 
sincere,  because  the  keeping  of  it  would  cost  him* 
nothing. 

He  set  out  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening  with  Caseau, 
whom  Monsieur  de  Turenne10  had  sent  express  to  their 
Majesties.  The  Duke  of  York,"  and  the  Marquis 
d'Humieres,13  commanded  under  the  Marshal.  The 

9  The  Cardinal. 

10Vicomte  de  Turenne,  the  great  French  Commander,  born  in 
1611,  is  perhaps  most  famous  for  his  extraordinary  campaign  in 
Alsace  in  1674-75.  His  defence  of  the  frontiers  of  the  Rhine 
showed  his  remarkable  genius  as  a  tactician.  The  spot  where  he 
was  struck  down  by  a  spent  cannon-ball  at  the  battle  of  Sassbach 
in  the  Grand-Duchy  of  Baden  (on  27th  July  1675)  is  marked  by 
a  monument. 

11  Priorato,  in  his  Memoirs  of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  mentions 
other  Englishmen  besides  the  Duke  of  York  being  present;  as 
Lords  Gerrard,  Barclay,  and  Jermyn,  with  others  (Memoirs, 
I2mo,  1673,  vol.  i.  part  iii.  p.  365). 

u  Marshal  d'Humieres,  b.  1628,  ob.  1694.  Voltaire  says  of  him, 
that  he  was  the  first  who,  at  the  siege  of  Arras,  in  1658,  was 
served  on  silver  in  the  trenches,  and  had  ragouts  and  entremets 
served  up  to  his  table. 


70         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

latter  was  upon  duty  when  the  Chevalier  arrived,  it 
being  scarce  daylight.  The  Duke  of  York  did  not  at 
first  recollect  him;  but  the  Marquis  d'Humieres,  run- 
ning to  him  with  opea  arms,  "I  thought,"  said  he,  "if 
any  man  came  from  Court  to  pay  us  a  visit  upon  such 
an  occasion  as  this,  it  would  be  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont.  Well,"  continued  he,  "what  are  they  doing 
at  Peronne?"  "They  are  in  great  consternation," 
replied  the  Chevalier.  "And  what  do  they  think  of 
us?"  "They  think,"  said  he,  "that  if  you  beat  the 
Prince,  you  will  do  no  more  than  your  duty;  if  you 
are  beaten,  they  will  think  you  fools  and  madmen, 
thus  to  have  risked  everything,  without  considering 
the  consequences."  "Truly,"  said  the  Marquis,  "you 
bring  us  very  comfortable  news.  Will  you  now  go  to 
Monsieur  de  Turenne's  quarters,  to  acquaint  him  with 
it;  or  will  you  choose  rather  to  repose  yourself  in 
mine,  for  you  have  been  riding  post  all  last  night, 
and  perhaps  did  not  experience  much  rest  in  the  pre- 
ceding?" "Where  have  you  heard  that  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont  had  ever  any  occasion  for  sleep?"  replied 
he.  "Only  order  me  a  horse,  that  I  may  have  the 
honour  to  attend  the  Duke  of  York;  for,  most  likely, 
he  is  not  in  the  field  so  early,  except  to  visit  some 
posts." 

The  advanced  guard  was  only  at  cannon-shot  from 
that  of  the  enemy.  As  soon  as  they  arrived  there, 
"I  should  like,"  said  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  "to 
advance  as  far  as  the  sentry  which  is  posted  on  that 
eminence.  I  have  some  friends  and  acquaintance  in 
their  army,  whom  I  should  wish  to  inquire  after:  I 
hope  the  Duke  of  York  will  give  me  permission."  At 
these  words  he  advanced.  The  sentry,  seeing  him  come 
forward  directly  to  his  post,  stood  upon  his  guard. 
The  Chevalier  stopped  as  soon  as  he  was  within  shot 
of  him.  The  sentry  answered  the  sign  which  was 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  71 

made  to  him,  and  made  another  to  the  officer,  who  had 
begun  to  advance  as  soon  as  he  had  seen  the  Chevalier 
come  forward,  and  was  soon  up  with  him ;  but  seeing 
the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  alone,  he  made  no  difficulty 
to  let  him  approach.  He  desired  leave  of  this  officer 
to  inquire  after  some  relations  he  had  in  their  army, 
and  at  the  same  time  asked  if  the  Duke  d'Arscot  was  at 
the  siege.  "Sir,"  said  he,  "there  he  is,  just  alighted 
under  those  trees,  which  you  see  on  the  left  of  our 
grand  guard :  it  is  hardly  a  minute  since  he  was  here 
with  the  Prince  d'Aremberg,  his  brother,  the  Baron 
de  Limbec,  and  Louvigny."  "May  I  see  them  upon 
parole?"  said  the  Chevalier.  "Sir,"  said  he,  "if  I  were 
allowed  to  quit  my  post,  I  would  do  myself  the  honour 
of  accompanying  you  thither;  but  I  will  send  to 
acquaint  them  that  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  desires 
to  speak  to  them."  And,  after  having  despatched  one 
of  his  guard  towards  them,  he  returned.  "Sir,"  said 
the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  "may  I  take  the  liberty  to 
inquire  how  I  came  to  be  known  to  you?"  "Is  it  pos- 
sible," said  the  other,  "that  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
should  forget  La  Motte,  who  had  the  honour  to  serve 
so  long  in  his  regiment  ?"  "What !  is  it  you  my  good 
friend  La  Motte?  Truly,  I  was  to  blame  for  not 
remembering  you,  though  you  are  in  a  dress  very  dif- 
ferent from  that  which  I  first  saw  you  in  at  Brussels, 
when  you  taught  the  Duchess  of  Guise  to  dance  the 
'triolets';  and  I  am  afraid  your  affairs  are  not  in  so 
flourishing  a  condition  as  they  were  the  campaign  after 
I  had  given  you  the  company  you  mention."  They 
were  talking  in  this  manner,  when  the  Duke  d'Arscot, 
followed  by  the  gentlemen  above  mentioned,  came  up 
on  full  gallop.  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  was  saluted 
by  the  whole  company  before  he  could  say  a  word. 
Soon  after  arrived  an  immense  number  of  others  of 
his  acquaintance,  with  many  people  out  of  curiosity 


72         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

on  both  sides,  who  seeing  him  upon  the  eminence, 
assembled  together  with  the  greatest  eagerness;  so 
that  the  two  armies,  without  design,  without  truce, 
and  without  fraud,  were  going  to  join  in  conversa- 
tion, if,  by  chance,  Monsieur  de  Turenne  had  not  per- 
ceived it  at  a  distance.  The  sight  surprised  him.  He 
hastened  that  way;  and  the  Marquis  d'Humieres 
acquainted  him  with  the  arrival  of  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont,  who  wished  to  speak  to  the  sentry  before  he 
went  to  the  headquarters.  He  added,  that  he  could  not 
comprehend  how  the  devil  he  had  managed  to  assemble 
both  armies  around  him,  for  it  was  hardly  a  minute 
since  he  had  left  him.  "Truly,"  said  Monsieur  de 
Turenne,  "he  is  a  very  extraordinary  man;  but  it  is 
only  reasonable  that  he  should  let  us  now  have  a  little 
of  his  company,  since  he  has  paid  his  first  visit  to  the 
enemy."  At  these  words  he  despatched  an  aide-de- 
camp, to  recall  the  officers  of  his  army,  and  to  acquaint 
the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  with  his  impatience  to  see 
him. 

This  order  arrived  at  the  same  time,  with  one  of  the 
same  nature,  to  the  enemy's  officers.  The  Prince  de 
Conde  being  informed  of  this  peaceable  interview,  was 
not  the  least  surprised  at  it,  when  he  heard  that  it  was 
occasioned  by  the  arrival  of  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont. 
He  only  gave  Lussan  orders  to  recall  the  officers,  and 
to  desire  the  Chevalier  to  meet  him  at  the  same  place 
the  next  day;  which  the  Chevalier  promised  to  do, 
provided  Monsieur  de  Turenne  should  approve  of  it,  as 
he  made  no  doubt  he  would. 

His  reception  in  the  King's  army  was  equally  agree- 
able as  that  which  he  had  experienced  from  the  enemy. 
Monsieur  de  Turenne  esteemed  him  no  less  for  his 
frankness  than  for  the  poignancy  of  his  wit.  He  took 
it  very  kindly  that  he  was  the  only  courtier  who  came 
to  see  him  in  a  time  so  critical  as  the  present :  the  ques- 


COUNT   DE  GRAMONT  73 

tions  which  he  asked  him  about  the  Court  were  not  so 
much  for  information,  as  to  divert  himself  with  his 
manner  of  relating  their  different  apprehensions  and 
alarms.  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  advised  him  to 
beat  the  enemy,  if  he  did  not  choose  to  be  answerable 
for  an  enterprise  which  he  had  undertaken  without 
consulting  the  Cardinal.  Monsieur  de  Turenne  prom- 
ised him  he  would  exert  himself  to  the  utmost  to  fol- 
low his  advice,  and  assured  him,  that  if  he  succeeded, 
he  would  make  the  Queen  keep  her  word  with  him; 
and  concluded  with  saying,  that  he  was  not  sorry  the 
Prince  de  Conde  had  expressed  a  desire  to  see  him. 
His  measures  were  taken  for  an  attack  upon  the  lines : 
on  this  subject  he  discoursed  in  private  with  the  Chev- 
alier de  Gramont,  and  concealed  nothing  from  him  ex- 
cept the  time  of  execution;  but  this  was  all  to  no 
purpose,  for  the  Chevalier  had  seen  too  much,  not  to 
judge,  from  his  own  knowledge,  and  the  observations 
he  had  made,  that  from  the  situation  of  the  army,  the 
attack  could  be  no  longer  deferred. 

He  set  out  the  next  day  for  his  rendezvous,  attended 
by  a  trumpet,  and  found  the  Prince  at  the  place  which 
Monsieur  de  Lussan  had  described  to  him  the  evening 
before.  As  soon  as  he  alighted :  "Is  it  possible,"  said 
the  Prince,  embracing  him,  "that  this  can  be  the  Chev- 
alier de  Gramont,  and  that  I  should  see  him  in  the 
contrary  party?"  "It  is  you,  my  lord,  whom  I  see 
there,"  replied  the  Chevalier,  "and  I  refer  it  to  your- 
self, whether  it  was  the  fault  of  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont,  or  your  own,  that  we  now  embrace  different 
interests."  "I  must  confess,"  said  the  Prince,  "that  if 
there  are  some  who  have  abandoned  me  like  base,  un- 
grateful wretches,  you  have  left  me,  as  I  left  myself, 
like  a  man  of  honour,  who  thinks  himself  In  the  right. 
But  let  us  forget  all  cause  of  resentment,  and  tell  me 
what  was  your  motive  for  coming  here,  you,  whom  I 


74         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

thought  at  Peronne  with  the  Court?"  "Must  I  tell 
you  ?"  said  he  :u  "why,  faith  then,  I  came  to  save  your 
life.  I  know  that  you  cannot  help  being  in  the  midst 
of  the  enemy  in  a  day  of  battle;  it  is  only  necessary 
for  your  horse  to  be  shot  under  you,  and  to  be  taken  in 
arms,  to  meet  with  the  same  treatment  from  this  Cardi- 
nal as  your  uncle  Montmorency14  did  from  the  other. 
I  come,  therefore,  to  hold  a  horse  in  readiness  for  you 
in  case  of  a  similar  misfortune,  that  you  may  not  lose 
your  head."  "It  is  not  the  first  time/'  said  the  Prince, 
smiling,  "that  you  have  rendered  me  this  service, 
though  the  being  taken  prisoner  at  that  time  could  not 
have  been  so  dangerous  to  me  as  now." 

From  this  conversation  they  passed  to  more  enter- 
taining subjects.  The  Prince  asked  him  many  ques- 
tions concerning  the  Court,  the  ladies,  play,  and  about 
his  amours;  and  returning  insensibly  to  the  present 
situation  of  affairs,  the  Chevalier  having  inquired  after 
some  officers  of  his  acquaintance,  who  had  remained 
with  him,  the  Prince  told  him  that  if  he  chose  he  might 
go  to  the  lines,  where  he  would  have  an  opportunity 
not  only  of  seeing  those  whom  he  inquired  after,  but 
likewise  the  disposition  of  the  quarters  and  entrench- 
ments. To  this  he  consented,  and  the  Prince  having 
shown  him  all  the  works  and  attended  him  back  to  their 
rendezvous,  "Well,  Chevalier,"  said  he,  "when  do  you 
think  we  shall  see  you  again?"  "Faith,"  replied  he, 
"you  have  used  me  so  handsomely,  that  I  shall  con- 
ceal nothing  from  you.  Hold  yourself  in  readiness 
an  hour  before  daybreak;  for,  you  may  depend  upon 
it,  we  shall  attack  you  to-morrow  morning.  I  would 
not  have  acquainted  you  with  this,  perhaps,  had  I  been 
entrusted  with  the  secret,  but,  nevertheless,  in  the  pres- 

"  Gramont. 

14  Henry,  Duke  of  Montmorency,  who  was  taken  prisoner  ist 
September  1692,  and  had  his  head  struck  off  at  Toulouse  in  the 
month  of  November  following. 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  75 

ent  case  you  may  believe  me."  "You  are  still  the  same 
man,"  said  the  Prince,  again  embracing  him.  The 
Chevalier  returned  to  Monsieur  de  Turenne's  camp 
towards  night ;  every  preparation  was  then  making  for 
the  attack  of  the  lines,  and  it  was  no  longer  a  secret 
among  the  troops. 

"Well,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier,  were  they  all  very 
glad  to  see  you?"  said  Monsieur  de  Turenne;  "the 
Prince,  no  doubt,  received  you  with  the  greatest  kind- 
ness, and  asked  a  great  number  of  questions?"  "He 
showed  me  all  the  civility  imaginable,"  replied  the 
Chevalier;  "and,  to  convince  me  he  did  not  take  me 
for  a  spy,  he  led  me  round  the  lines  and  entrench- 
ments, and  showed  me  the  preparations  he  had  made 
for  your  reception."  "And  what  is  his  opinion  ?"  said 
the  Marshal. 

"He  is  persuaded  that  you  will  attack  him  to-night, 
or  to-morrow  by  daybreak;  for  you  great  captains," 
continued  the  Chevalier,  "see  through  each  other's 
designs  in  a  wonderful  manner." 

Monsieur  de  Turenne  with  pleasure  received  this 
commendation  from  a  man  who  was  not  indiscrimi- 
nately accustomed  to  bestow  praise.  He  communicated 
to  him  the  disposition  of  the  attack;  and  at  the  same 
time  acquainted  him  that  he  was  very  happy  that  a  man 
frho  had  seen  so  many  actions  was  to  be  present  at 
this;  and  that  he  esteemed  it  no  small  advantage  to 
have  the  benefit  of  his  advice ;  but  as  he  believed  that 
Ihe  remaining  part  of  the  night  would  be  hardly  suffi- 
cient for  his  repose,  after  having  passed  the  former 
without  any  refreshment,  he  consigned  him  to  the 
Marquis  d'Humieres,  who  provided  him  with  a  supper 
and  a  lodging. 

The  next  day  the  lines  of  Arras  were  attacked, 
wherein  Monsieur  de  Turenne,  being  victorious,  added 
additional  lustre  to  his  former  glory ;  and  the  Prince  de 


76         THE  COURT  OF   CHARLES   II 

Conde,  though  vanquished,  lost  nothing  of  his  former 
reputation. 

There  are  so  many  accounts  of  this  celebrated  battle, 
that  to  mention  it  here  would  be  altogether  superfluous. 
The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  who,  as  a  volunteer,  was 
permitted  to  go  into  every  part,  has  given  a  better  de- 
scription of  it  than  any  other  person.  Monsieur  de 
Turenne  reaped  great  advantage  from  that  activity 
which  never  forsook  the  Chevalier  either  in  peace  or 
war;  and  that  presence  of  mind  which  enabled  him  to 
carry  orders,  as  coming  from  the  General,  so  very 
apropos,  that  Monsieur  de  Turenne,  otherwise  very 
particular  in  such  matters,  thanked  him,  when  the 
battle  was  over,  in  the  presence  of  all  his  officers,  and 
despatched  him  to  Court  with  the  first  news  of  his 
success. 

All  that  is  generally  necessary  in  these  expeditions 
is  to  be  accustomed  to  hard  riding,  and  to  be  well  pro- 
vided with  fresh  horses,  but  he  had  a  great  many  other 
obstacles  to  surmount.  In  the  first  place,  the  parties 
of  the  enemy  were  dispersed  over  all  the  country,  and 
obstructed  his  passage.  Then  he  had  to  prepare 
against  greedy  and  officious  courtiers,  who,  on  such 
occasions,  post  themselves  in  all  the  roads,  in  order  to 
cheat  the  poor  courier  out  of  his  news.  However, 
his  address  preserved  him  from  the  one,  and  deceived 
the  others. 

He  had  taken  eight  or  ten  troopers,  commanded  by 
an  officer  of  his  acquaintance,  to  escort  him  half  way 
to  Bapaume,"  being  persuaded  that  the  greatest  danger 
would  lie  between  the  camp  and  the  first  stage.  He 
had  not  proceeded  a  league  before  he  was  convinced 
of  the  truth  of  what  he  suspected,  and  turning  to  the 
"A  fortified  town  in  Artois,  seated  in  a  barren  country,  with- 
out rivers  or  springs,  and  having  an  old  palace,  which  gave  rise 
to  the  town,  with  a  particular  governor  of  its  own,  a  royal  and 
forest  court  In  1641  the  French  took  it  from  the  Spaniards. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  77 

officer,  who  followed  him  closely,  "If  you  are  not  well 
mounted,"  said  he,  "I  would  advise  you  to  return  to 
the  camp;  for  my  part,  I  shall  set  spurs  to  my  horse, 
and  make  the  best  of  my  way."  "Sir,"  said  the  officer, 
"I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  keep  you  company,  at  what- 
ever rate  you  go,  until  you  are  out  of  all  danger."  "I 
doubt  that,"  replied  the  Chevalier,  "for  those  gentle- 
men there  seem  prepared  to  pay  us  a  visit."  "Don't 
you  see,"  said  the  officer,  "they  are  some  of  our  own 
people  who  are  grazing  their  horses?"  "No,"  said  the 
Chevalier;  "but  I  see  very  well  that  they  are  some  of 
the  enemy's  troopers."  Upon  which,  observing  to  him 
that  they  were  mounting,  he  ordered  the  horsemen  that 
escorted  him  to  prepare  themselves  to  make  a  diver- 
sion, and  he  himself  set  off  full  speed  towards 
Bapaume. 

He  was  mounted  upon  a  very  swift  English  horse; 
but  having  entangled  himself  in  a  hollow  way  where 
the  ground  was  deep  and  miry,  he  soon  had  the 
troopers  at  his  heels,  who,  supposing  him  to  be  some 
officer  of  rank,  would  not  be  deceived,  but  continued 
to  pursue  him,  without  paying  any  attention  to  the 
others.  The  best  mounted  of  the  party  began  to  draw 
near  him;  for  the  English  horses,  swift  as  the  wind 
on  even  ground,  proceeded  but  very  indifferently  in 
bad  roads ;  the  trooper  presented  his  carbine,  and  cried 
out  to  him,  at  some  distance,  "Good  quarter."  The 
Chevalier  de  Gramont,  who  perceived  that  they  gained 
upon  him  and  that  whatever  efforts  his  horse  made 
in  such  heavy  ground,  he  must  be  overtaken  at  last,  im- 
mediately quitted  the  road  to  Bapaume,  and  took  a 
causeway  to  the  left,  which  led  quite  a  different  way. 
As  soon  as  he  had  gained  it,  he  drew  up,  as  if  to  hear 
the  proposal  of  the  trooper,  which  afforded  his  horse 
an  opportunity  of  recovering;  while  his  enemy,  mis- 
taking his  intention,  and  thinking  that  he  only  waited 


78         THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

to  surrender,  immediately  exerted  every  effort,  that 
he  might  take  him  before  the  rest  of  his  companions, 
who  were  following,  could  arrive,  and  by  this  means 
almost  killed  his  horse. 

One  minute's  reflection  made  the  Chevalier  consider 
what  a  disagreeable  adventure  it  would  be,  thus  com- 
ing from  so  glorious  a  victory,  and  the  dangers  of  a 
battle  so  warmly  disputed,  to  be  taken  by  a  set  of 
scoundrels  who  had  not  been  in  it,  and,  instead  of 
being  received  in  triumph,  and  embraced  by  a  great 
queen  for  the  important  news  with  which  he  was 
charged,  to  see  himself  stripped  by  the  vanquished. 

During  this  short  meditation,  the  trooper  who  fol- 
lowed him  was  arrived  within  shot,  and  still  presenting 
his  carbine,  offered  him  good  quarter,  but  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont,  to  whom  this  offer,  and  the  manner  in 
which  it  was  made,  were  equally  displeasing,  made  a 
sign  to  him  to  lower  his  piece;  and  perceiving  his 
horse  to  be  in  wind,  he  lowered  his  hand,  rode  off  like 
lightning,  and  left  the  trooper  in  such  astonishment 
that  he  even  forgot  to  fire  at  him. 

As  soon  as  he  arrived  at  Bapaume,  he  changed 
horses;  the  commander  of  this  place  showed  him  the 
greatest  respect,  assuring  him  that  no  person  had  yet 
passed;  that  he  would  keep  the  secret,  and  that  he 
would  retain  all  that  followed  him,  except  the  couriers 
of  Monsieur  de  Turenne. 

He  now  had  only  to  guard  against  those  who  would 
be  watching  for  him  about  the  environs  of  Peronne,  to 
return  as  soon  as  they  saw  him,  and  carry  his  news  to 
Court,  without  being  acquainted  with  any  of  the  par- 
ticulars. He  knew  very  well  that  Marshal  du  Plessis, 
Marshal  de  Villeroy,  and  Gaboury,  had  boasted  of  this 
to  the  Cardinal  before  his  departure.  Wherefore,  to 
elude  this  snare,  he  hired  two  well-mounted  horsemen 
at  Bapaume,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  got  a  league  from 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  79 

that  place,  and  after  giving  them  each  two  louis  d'ors, 
to  secure  their  fidelity,  he  ordered  them  to  ride  on 
before,  to  appear  very  much  terrified,  and  to  tell  all 
those  who  should  ask  them  any  questions,  "that  all 
was  lost;  that  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  had  stopped 
at  Bapaume,  having  no  great  inclination  to  be  the 
messenger  of  ill  news ;  and  that  as  for  themselves,  they 
had  been  pursued  by  the  enemy's  troopers,  who  were 
spread  over  the  whole  country  since  the  defeat." 

Everything  succeeded  to  his  wish:  the  horsemen 
were  intercepted  by  Gaboury,  who  in  his  eagerness  had 
outstripped  the  two  marshals;  but  whatever  questions 
were  asked  them,  they  acted  their  parts  so  well,  that 
Peronne  was  already  in  consternation,  and  rumours  of 
the  defeat  were  whispered  among  the  courtiers,  when 
the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  arrived. 

Nothing  so  enhances  the  value  of  good  news  as  when 
a  false  alarm  of  bad  has  preceded;  yet,  though  the 
Chevalier's  was  accompanied  with  this  advantage, 
none  but  their  Majesties  received  it  with  that  transport 
of  joy  it  deserved. 

The  Queen  kept  her  promise  to  him  in  the  most 
fascinating  manner:  she  embraced  him  before  the 
whole  Court ;  the  King  appeared  no  less  delighted ;  but 
the  Cardinal,  whether  with  the  view  of  lessening  the 
merit  of  an  action  which  deserved  a.  handsome  reward, 
or  whether  it  was  from  a  return  of  that  insolence 
which  always  accompanied  him  in  prosperity,  appeared 
at  first  not  to  pay  any  attention  to  what  he  said,  and 
being  afterwards  informed  that  the  lines  had  been 
forced,  that  the  Spanish  army  was  beaten,  and  that 
Arras  was  relieved :  "Is  the  Prince  de  Conde  taken  ?" 
said  he.  "No,"  replied  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont. 
"He  is  dead,  then,  I  suppose?"  said  the  Cardinal. 
Not  so,  neither,"  answered  the  Chevalier.  "Fine 
news  indeed!"  said  the  Cardinal,  with  an  air  of  con- 


8o         THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

tempt;  and  at  these  words  he  went  into  the  Queen's 
cabinet  with  their  Majesties.  And  happy  it  was  for 
the  Chevalier  that  he  did  so,  for  without  doubt  he 
would  have  given  him  some  severe  reply,"  in  resent- 
ment for  those  two  fine  questions,  and  the  conclusion 
he  had  drawn  from  them. 

The  Court  was  filled  with  the  Cardinal's  spies: 
the  Chevalier,  as  is  usual  on  such  an  occasion,  was 
surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  courtiers  and  inquisitive 
people,  and  he  was  very  glad  to  ease  himself  of  some 
part  of  the  load  which  laid  heavy  on  his  heart,  within 
the  hearing  of  the  Cardinal's  creatures,  and  which  he 
would  perhaps  have  told  him  to  his  face.  "Faith, 
gentlemen,"  said  he,  with  a  sneer,  "there  is  nothing  like 
being  zealous  and  eager  in  the  service  of  kings  and 
great  princes :  you  have  seen  what  a  gracious  reception 
his  Majesty  has  given  me;  you  are  likewise  witnesses 
in  what  an  obliging  manner  the  Queen  kept  her  prom- 
ise with  me,  but  as  for  the  Cardinal,  he  has  received 
my  news  as  if  he  gained  no  more  by  it  than  he  did  by 
the  death  of  Peter  Mazarin."11 

This  was  sufficient  to  terrify  all  those  who  were 
sincerely  attached  to  him;  and  the  best  established 
fortune  would  have  been  ruined  at  some  period  by  a 
jest  much  less  severe ;  for  it  was  delivered  in  the  pres- 
ence of  witnesses,  who  were  only  desirous  of  having 
an  opportunity  of  representing  it  in  its  utmost  malig- 
nancy, to  make  a  merit  of  their  vigilance  with  a  power- 

18  This  spirit  seems  not  always  to  have  attended  him  in  his 
transactions  with  the  Cardinal.  On  occasion  of  the  entry  of  the 
King  in  1660,  "Le  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  Rouvillt,  Bellefonds, 
and  some  other  courtiers,  attended  in  the  Cardinal's  suite,  a 
degree  of  flattery  which  astonished  everybody  who  knew  him.  I 
was  informed  that  the  Chevalier  wore  a  very  rich  orange  col- 
oured dress  on  that  occasion"  (Letters  de  Maintenon,  vol.  i.  p.  32). 

17  Peter  Mazarin  was  the  Cardinal's  father.  He  was  a  native 
of  Palermo  in  Sicily,  which  place  he  left  in  order  to  settle  at 
Rome,  where  he  died  in  the  year  1654. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  81 

ful  and  absolute  minister.  Of  this  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont  was  thoroughly  convinced;  yet  whatever 
detriment  he  foresaw  might  arise  from  it,  he  could 
not  help  being  much  pleased  with  what  he  had  said. 

The  spies  very  faithfully  discharged  their  duty; 
however,  the  affair  took  a  very  different  turn  from 
what  they  expected.  The  next  day,  when  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont  was  present  while  their  Majesties  were  at 
dinner,  the  Cardinal  came  in,  and  coming  up  to  him, 
everybody  making  way  for  him  out  of  respect :  "Chev- 
alier," said  he,  "the  news  which  you  have  brought  is 
very  good ;  their  Majesties  are  very  well  satisfied  with 
ft;  and  to  convince  you  it  is  more  advantageous  to 
me  than  the  death  of  Peter  Mazarin,  if  you  will  come 
and  dine  with  me  we  will  have  some  play  together; 
for  the  Queen  will  give  us  something  to  play  for,  over 
and  above  her  first  promise." 

In  this  manner  did  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  dare 
to  provoke  a  powerful  minister,  and  this  was  all  the 
resentment  which  the  least  vindictive  of  all  statesmen 
expressed  on  the  occasion.  It  was  indeed  very  un- 
usual for  so  young  a  man  to  reverence  the  authority 
of  ministers  no  farther  than  as  they  were  themselves 
respectable  by  their  merit ;  for  this  his  own  breast,  as 
well  as  the  whole  Court,  applauded  him,  and  he  en- 
joyed the  satisfaction  of  being  the  only  man  who  durst 
preserve  the  least  shadow  of  liberty  in  a  general  state 
of  servitude.  But  it  was  perhaps  owing  to  the  Car- 
dinal's passing  over  this  insult  with  impunity,  that  he 
afterwards  drew  upon  himself  some  difficulties,  by 
other  rash  expressions  less  fortunate  in  the  event. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Court  returned.  The  Cardinal, 
who  was  sensible  that  he  could  no  longer  keep  his 
master  in  a  state  of  tutelage — being  himself  worn 
out  with  cares  and  sickness,  and  having  amassed  treas- 
ures he  knew  not  what  to  do  with,  and  being  suffi- 


82         THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

ciently  loaded  with  the  weight  of  public  odium, — • 
turned  all  his  thoughts  towards  terminating,  in  a  man- 
ner the  most  advantageous  for  France,  a  ministry 
which  had  so  cruelly  shaken  that  kingdom.  Thus, 
while  he  was  earnestly  laying  the  foundations  of  a 
peace  so  ardently  wished  for,  pleasure  and  plenty 
began  to  reign  at  Court. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  experienced  for  a  long 
time  a  variety  of  fortune  in  love  and  gaming :  he  was 
esteemed  by  the  courtiers,  beloved  by  beauties  whom 
he  neglected,  and  a  dangerous  favourite  of  those  whom 
he  admired;  more  successful  in  play  than  in  his 
amours;  but  the  one  indemnifying  him  for  want  of 
success  in  the  other,  he  was  always  full  of  life  and 
spirits;  and  in  all  transactions  of  importance,  always  a 
man  of  honour. 

It  is  a  pity  that  we  must  be  forced  here  to  interrupt 
the  course  of  his  history,  by  an  interval  of  some  years, 
as  has  been  already  done  at  the  commencement  of 
these  Memoirs.  In  a  life  where  the  most  minute 
circumstances  are  always  singular  and  diverting,  we 
can  meet  with  no  chasm  which  does  not  afford  regret ; 
but  whether  he  did  not  think  them  worthy  of  holding 
a  place  among  his  other  adventures,  or  that  he  has  only 
preserved  a  confused  idea  of  them,  we  must  pass  to 
the  parts  of  these  fragments  which  are  better  ascer- 
tained, that  we  may  arrive  at  the  subject  of  his  journey 
to  England. 

The  peace  of  the  Pyrenees,"  the  King's  marriage,1* 
the  return  of  the  Prince  de  Conde,"  and  the  death  of 

18  This  treaty  was  concluded  7th  November  1659. 

"Louis  XIV.  with  Maria,  the  Infanta  Theresa  of  Spain 
(daughter  of  King  Philip  IV.  and  Maria-Theresa  of  Austria,  who 
was  born  2oth  September  1638,  married  ist  June  1660,  and 
entered  Paris  26th  August  following.  She  died  at  Versailles  30th 
July  1683,  and  was  buried  at  St.  Denis. 

lith  April  (see  De  Retz's  Memoirs,  vol.  iii.  p.  119). 


COUNT    DE   GRAMONT  83 

the  Cardinal,  gave  a  new  face  to  the  State.81  The  eyes 
of  the  whole  nation  were  fixed  upon  their  King,  who, 
for  nobleness  of  mien,  and  gracefulness  of  person,  had 
no  equal;  but  it  was  not  then  known  that  he  was 
possessed  of  those  superior  abilities,  which,  filling  his 
subjects  with  admiration,  in  the  end  made  him  so 
formidable  to  Europe.  Love  and  ambition,  the  invis- 
ible springs  of  the  intrigues  and  cabals  of  all  courts, 
attentively  observed  his  first  steps :  pleasure  promised 
herself  an  absolute  empire  over  a  prince  who  had  been 
kept  in  ignorance  of  the  necessary  rules  of  government, 
and  ambition  had  no  hopes  of  reigning  in  the  Court 
except  in  the  minds  of  those  who  were  able  to  dispute 
the  management  of  affairs;  when  men  were  surprised 
to  see  the  King  on  a  sudden  display  such  brilliant 
abilities,  which  prudence,  in  some  measure  necessary, 
had  so  long  obliged  him  to  conceal. 

An  application,  inimical  to  the  pleasures  which  gen- 
erally attract  that  age,  and  which  unlimited  power  very 
seldom  refuses,  attached  him  solely  to  the  cares  of 
government.  All  admired  this  wonderful  change,  but 
all  did  not  find  their  account  in  it :  the  great  lost  their 
consequence  before  an  absolute  master  and  the  cour- 
tiers approached  with  reverential  awe  the  sole  object 
of  their  respects  and  the  sole  master  of  their  fortunes : 
those  who  had  conducted  themselves  like  petty  tyrants 
in  their  provinces,  and  on  the  frontiers,  were  now  no 
more  than  governors :  favours,  according  to  the  King's 
pleasure,  were  sometimes  conferred  on  merit,  and 
sometimes  for  services  done  the  State;  but  to  impor- 
tune, or  to  menace  the  Court,  was  no  longer  the 
method  to  obtain  them. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  regarded  hi  3  master's 
attention  to  the  affairs  of  state  as  a  prodigy :  he  could 
not  conceive  how  he  could  submit  at  his  age  to  the 
81  Ob.  gth  March  1661,  aet.  59. 


84         THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES   II 

rules  he  prescribed  himself,  or  that  he  should  give  up 
so  many  hours  of  pleasure,  to  devote  them  to  the 
tiresome  duties  and  laborious  functions  of  govern- 
ment; but  he  blessed  the  Lord  that  henceforward  no 
more  homage  was  to  be  paid,  no  more  court  to  be 
made,  but  to  him  alone  to  whom  they  were  justly  due. 
Disdaining  as  he  did  the  servile  adoration  usually  paid 
to  a  minister,  he  could  never  crouch  before  the  power 
of  the  two  Cardinals  who  succeeded  each  other: 
he  neither  worshipped  the  arbitrary  power  of  the 
one,  nor  gave  his  approbation  to  the  artifices  of  the 
other;  he  had  never  received  anything  from  Cardi- 
nal Richelieu  but  an  abbey,  which  on  account  of  his 
rank,  could  not  be  refused  him;  and  he  never  ac- 
quired anything  from  Mazarin  but  what  he  won  of 
him  at  play. 

By  many  years'  experience  under  an  able  general  he 
had  acquired  a  talent  for  war ;  but  this  during  a  gen- 
eral peace  was  of  no  further  service  to  him.  He  there- 
fore thought  that,  in  the  midst  of  a  Court  flourishing 
in  beauties  and  abounding  in  wealth,  he  could  not 
employ  himself  better  than  in  endeavouring  to  gain 
the  good  opinion  of  his  master,  in  making  the  best 
use  of  those  advantages  which  nature  had  given  him 
for  play,  and  in  putting  in  practice  new  stratagems 
in  love. 

He  succeeded  very  well  in  the  two  first  of  these 
projects,  and  as  he  had  from  that  time  laid  it  down 
as  the  rule  of  his  conduct  to  attach  himself  solely  to 
the  King  in  all  his  views  of  preferment,  to  have  no 
regard  for  favour  unless  when  it  was  supported  by 
merit,  to  make  himself  beloved  by  the  courtiers  and 
feared  by  the  minister,  to  dare  to  undertake  anything 
in  order  to  do  good,  and  to  engage  in  nothing  at  the 
expense  of  innocence,  he  soon  became  one  in  all  the 
King's  parties  of  pleasure,  without  gaining  the  ill-will 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  85 

of  the  courtiers.  In  play  he  was  successful,  in  love 
unfortunate;  or,  to  speak  more  properly,  his  restless- 
ness and  jealousy  overcame  his  natural  prudence,  in  a 
situation  wherein  he  had  most  occasion  for  it.  La 
Motte  Argencourt22  was  one  of  the  maids  of  honour  to 
the  Queen  Dowager,  and  though  no  sparkling  beauty, 
she  had  drawn  away  lovers  from  the  celebrated  Mene- 
ville."  It  was  sufficient  in  those  days  for  the  King 
to  cast  his  eye  upon  a  young  lady  of  the  Court  to  in- 
spire her  with  hopes,  and  often  with  tender  sentiments; 
but  if  he  spoke  to  her  more  than  once,  the  courtiers 
took  it  for  granted,  and  those  who  had  either  preten- 
sions to,  or  love  for  her,  respectfully  withdrew  both 
the  one  and  the  other,  and  afterwards  only  paid  her1 
respect.  But  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  thought  fit  to 
act  quite  otherwise,  perhaps  to  preserve  a  singularity 
of  character,  which  upon  the  present  occasion  was  of 
no  avail. 

He  had  never  before  thought  of  her,  but  as  soon  as 
he  found  that  she  was  honoured  with  the  King's  at- 
tention, he  was  of  opinion  that  she  was  likewise  de- 
serving of  his.  Having  attached  himself  to  her,  he 
soon  became  very  troublesome,  without  convincing  her 
he  was  much  in  love.  She  grew  weary  of  his  persecu- 
tions, but  he  would  not  desist,  neither  on  account  of  her 
ill-treatment  nor  of  her  threats.  This  conduct  of  his 
at  first  made  no  great  noise,  because  she  was  in  hopes 
that  he  would  change  his  behaviour;  but  finding  him 
rashly  persist  in  it,  she  complained  of  him ;  and  then  it 
was  that  he  perceived  that  if  love  renders  all  conditions 

a  Should  be  La  Motte  ^Houdancourt,  a  niece  of  Marshal 
Houdancourt.  Louis  XIV.  is  said  to  have  paid  addresses  to  this 
b'eauty  in  1662,  with  less  success  than  her  rival,  La  Valliere.  She 
married  the  Marquis  de  la  Vieuville.  Mademoiselle  de  la  Mothe- 
Argencourt  was  the  mistress  of  the  Marquis  de  Richelieu  (see 
Vizetelly's  edition  of  the  Memoirs,  vol.  i.  p.  118,  note). 

28  Mademoiselle  de  Meneville,  notorious  for  her  gallantries. 


86         THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

equal,  it  is  not  so  between  rivals.  He  was  banished 
the  Court,  and  not  finding  any  place  in  France  which 
could  console  him  for  what  he  most  regretted — the 
presence  and  sight  of  his  Prince — after  having  made 
some  slight  reflections  upon  his  disgrace,  and  bestowed 
a  few  imprecations  against  her  who  was  the  cause  of 
it,  he  at  last  formed  the  resolution  of  visiting  England. 


CHAPTER    VI 

CURIOSITY  to  see  a  man  equally  famous  for  his 
crimes  and  his  elevation,  had  once  before  in- 
duced the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  to  visit  Eng- 
land.     Reasons    of    state    assume    great    privileges. 
Whatever  appears  advantageous  is  lawful,  and  every- 
thing that  is  necessary  is  honourable  in  politics.    While 
the  King  of  England  sought  the  protection  of  Spain 
in  the  Low  Countries,  and  that  of  the  States-General 
in  Holland,  other  powers  sent  splendid  embassies  to 
Cromwell. 

This  man,  whose  ambition  had  opened  him  a  way 
to  sovereign  power  by  the  greatest  crimes,  maintained 
himself  in  it  by  accomplishments  which  seemed  to 
render  him  worthy  of  it  by  their  lustre.  The  nation 
of  all  Europe  the  least  submissive  patiently  bore  a 
yoke  which  did  not  even  leave  her  the  shadow  of 
that  liberty  of  which  she  is  so  jealous;  and  Cromwell, 
master  of  the  Commonwealth,  under  the  title  of  Pro- 
tector, feared  at  home,  but  yet  more  dreaded  abroad, 
was  at  his  highest  pitch  of  glory  when  he  was  seen 
by  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont;  but  the  Chevalier  did 
not  see  any  appearance  of  a  court.  One  part  of  the 
nobility  proscribed,  the  other  removed  from  employ- 
ments ;  an  affectation  of  purity  of  manners,  instead  of 
the  luxury  which  the  pomp  of  courts  displays,  all 
taken  together  presented  nothing  but  sad  and  serious 
objects  in  the  finest  city  in  the  world ;  and  therefore 
the  Chevalier  acquired  nothing  by  this  voyage  but  the 
idea  of  some  merit  in  a  profligate  man,  and  the  ad- 

87 


88         THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

miration  of  some  concealed  beauties  he  had  found 
means  to  discover. 

Affairs  wore  quite  a  different  appearance  at  his 
second  voyage.  The  joy  for  the  Restoration  of  the 
Royal  Family  still  appeared  in  all  parts.  The  nation, 
fond  of  change  and  novelty,  tasted  the  pleasure  of  a 
natural  government,  and  seemed  to  breathe  again  after 
a  long  oppression.  In  short,  the  same  people  who,  by 
a  solemn  abjuration,  had  excluded  even  the  posterity 
of  their  lawful  sovereign,  exhausted  themselves  in 
festivals  and  rejoicings  for  his  return.1 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  arrived  about  two  years 
after  the  Restoration.  The  reception  he  met  with  in 
this  Court  soon  made  him  forget  the  other;  and  the 
engagements  he  in  the  end  contracted  in  England1 
lessened  the  regret  he  had  in  leaving  France. 

This  was  a  desirable  retreat  for  an  exile  of  his  dis- 
position. Everything  flattered  his  taste,  and  if  the 
adventures  he  had  in  this  country  were  not  the  most 
considerable,  they  were  at  least  the  most  agreeable  of 
his  life.  But  before  we  relate  them  it  will  not  be  im- 
proper to  give  some  account  of  the  English  Court  as 
it  was  at  that  period, 

'Bishop  Burnet  confirms  this  account  "With  the  restoration 
of  the  King,"  says  he,  "a  spirit  of  extravagant  joy  spread  over 
the  nation,  that  brought  on  with  it  the  throwing  off  the  very 
professions  of  virtue  and  piety.  All  ended  in  entertainments 
and  drunkenness  which  overrun  the  three  kingdoms  to  such  a 
degree,  that  it  vfery  much  corrupted  all  their  morals.  Under  the 
colour  of  drinking  the  King's  health,  there  were  great  disorders, 
and  much  riot  everywhere :  and  the  pretences  of  religion,  both  in 
those  of  the  hypocritical  sort,  and  of  the  more  honest,  but  no 
less  pernicious  enthusiasts,  gave  great  advantages,  as  well  as 
they  furnished  much  matter  to  the  profane  mockers  of  true 
piety'*  (History  f  of  his  Own  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  127,  8vo  edit.). 
Voltaire  says  JKing  Charles  "was  received _at  Dover  by  twenty 
thousand  of  his  subjects,  who  fell  upon  their  knees  before  him; 
and  I  have  been  told  by  some  old  men  who  were  of  this  num- 
ber, that  hardly  any  of  those  who  were  present  could  refrain 
from  tears"  (Age  of  Louis  XIV.  chap.  v.). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  89 

The  necessity  of  affairs  had  exposed  Charles  II. 
from  his  earliest  youth  to  the  toils  and  perils  of  a 
bloody  war.  The  fate  of  the  King,  his  father,  had  left 
him  for  inheritance  nothing  but  his  misfortunes  and 
disgraces.  They  overtook  him  everywhere ;  but  it  was 
not  until  he  had  struggled  with  his  ill-fortune  to  the 
last  extremity  that  he  submitted  to  the  decrees  of 
Providence. 

All  those  who  were  either  great  on  account  of  their 
birth  or  their  loyalty  had  followed  him  into  exile ;  and 
all  the  young  persons  of  the  greatest  distinction  having 
afterwards  joined  him,  composed  a  Court  worthy  of  a 
better  fate. 

Plenty  and  prosperity,  which  are  thought  to  tend 
only  to  corrupt  manners,  found  nothing  to  spoil  in  an 
indigent  and  wandering  Court.  Necessity,  on  the  con- 
trary, which  produces  a  thousand  advantages  whether 
we  will  or  no,  served  them  for  education ;  and  nothing 
was  to  be  seen  among  them  but  an  emulation  in  glory, 
politeness,  and  virtue. 

With  this  little  Court,  in  such  high  esteem  for  merit, 
the  King  of  England  returned  two  years  prior  to  the 
period  we  mention,  to  ascend  a  throne  which,  to  all 
appearances,  he  was  to  fill  as  worthily  as  the  most 
glorious  of  his  predecessors.  The  magnificence  dis- 
played on  this  occasion  was  renewed  at  his  coronation.2 

The  death  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,8  and  of  the 

"Pepys  gives  a  graphic  account  of  the  Coronation  festivities, 
etc.,  in  his  Diary,  22nd  to  24th  April  1661. 

'Henry,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  youngest  child  of  Charles  I., 
born  1640.  He  died  of  the  smallpox  3rd  September  1660,  and, 
according  to  Pepys,  in  a  great  measure  owing  to  the  negligence 
of  his  doctors.  Both  the  King  and  his  brother  James  were  much 
affected  by  his  loss.  "He  was  a  prince,"  says  James,  "of  the 
greatest  hopes,  undaunted  courage,  admirable  parts,  and  a  clear 
understanding."  He  had  a  particular  talent  at  languages.  Besides 
the  Latin,  he  was  master  of  the  French,  the  Spanish,  the  Italian, 
and  Low  Dutch.  He  was,  in  short,  possessed  of  all  the  natural 
qualities,  as  well  as  acquired  accomplishments,  necessary  to  make 


90         THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

Princess  Royal,4  which  followed  soon  after,  had  inter- 
rupted the  course  of  this  splendour  by  a  tedious  mourn- 
ing, which  the  Court  quitted  at  last  to  prepare  for  the 
reception  of  the  Infanta  of  Portugal/ 

It  was  in  the  height  of  the  rejoicings  they  were 

a  great  prince  (Macpherson's  History  of  Great  Britain,  ch.  i.). 
Bishop  Burnet's  character  of  this  young  prince  is  also  very 
favourable  (see  History  of  His  Own  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  238). 

*Mary,  eldest  daughter  of  Charles  I.  and  mother  of  William 
III.,  born  4th  November  1631,  married  to  the  Prince  of  Orange 
2nd  May  1641,  who  died  27th  October  1650.  She  arrived  in 
England  23rd  September,  and  died  of  the  smallpox  24th  Decem- 
ber 1660 — according  to  Burnet,  not  much  lamented.  "  She  had 
lived,"  says  the  Bishop,  "  in  her  widowhood  for  some  years  with 
great  reputation,  kept  a  decent  Court,  and  supported  her  brothers 
very  liberally;  and  lived  within  bounds.  But  her  mother,  who 
had  the  art  of  making  herself  believe  anything  she  had  a  mind 
to,  upon  a  conversation  with  the  Queen  Mother  of  France, 
fancied  the  King  of  France  might  be  inclined  to  marry  her.  So 
she  wrote  to  ker  to  come  to  Paris.  In  order  to  that,  she  made 
an  equipage  far  above  what  she  could  support.  So  she  ran  her 
self  into  debt,  sold  all  her  jewels,  and  some  estates  that  were  in 
her  power  as  her  son's  guardian ;  and  was  not  only  disappointed 
of  that  vain  expectation,  but  fell  into  some  misfortunes  that 
lessened  the  reputation  she  had  formerly  lived  in"  (History  of 
his  Own  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  238). 

*  Catherine  of  Braganza  (b.  1638,  ob.  1705).  "The  Infanta  of 
Portugal  landed  I4th  May  1662  at  Portsmouth.  The  King  went 
thither,  and  was  married  privately  by  Lord  Aubigny,  a  secular 
priest,  and  almoner  to  the  Queen,  according  to  the  rites  of  Rome, 
in  the  Queen's  chamber ;  none  present  but  the  Portuguese  Am- 
bassador, three  more  Portuguese  of  quality,  and  two  or  three 
Portuguese  women.  What  made  this  necessary  was  that  the 
Earl  of  Sandwich  did  not  marry  her  by  proxy,  as  usual,  before 
she  came  away.  How  this  happened,  the  Duke  knows  not,  nor 
did  the  Chancellor  know  of  this  private  marriage.  The  Queen 
would  not  be  bedded  till  pronounced  man  and  wife  by  Sheldon, 
Bishop  of  London"  (James  II.'s  Journal ;  Macpherson's  State 
Papers,  vol.  i.).  Though  Charles  told  Colonel  Legge  that  at 
the  first  sight  of  his  wife  "he  thought  they  had  brought  him  a 
bat  instead  of  a  woman,"  his  letter  to  Lord  Clarendon,  dated 
from  Portsmouth  21  st  May,  records  that  he  was  not  unfavoura- 
bly impressed  upon  the  first  meeting.  "  She  hath  as  much  agree- 
ableness  in  her  looks  as  ever  I  saw,"  he  says,  "and  if  I  have  any 
skill  in  physiognomy,  which  I  think  I  have,  she  must  be  a  good 
woman  as  ever  was  born.  Her  conversation,  as  much  as  I  can 
perceive,  is  very  good;  for  she  has  wit  enough,  and  a  most 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  91 

making  for  this  new  queen,  in  all  the  splendour  of  a 
brilliant  court,  that  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  arrived 
to  contribute  to  its  magnificence  and  diversions." 

Accustomed  as  he  was  to  the  grandeur  of  the  Court 
of  France,  he  was  surprised  at  the  politeness  and  splen- 
dour of  the  Court  of  England.  The  King  was  inferior 
to  none,7  either  in  shape  or  air ;  his  wit  was  pleasant ; 
his  disposition  easy  and  affable;  his  soul,  susceptible 
of  opposite  impressions,  was  compassionate  to  the  un- 
happy, inflexible  to  the  wicked,  and  tender  even  to 
excess;  he  showed  great  abilities  in  urgent  affairs, 
but  was  incapable  of  application  to  any  that  were  not 
so:  his  heart  was  often  the  dupe,  but  oftener  the 
slave,  of  his  engagements. 

The  character  of  the  Duke  of  York"  was  entirely 
different :  he  had  the  reputation  of  undaunted  courage, 

agreeable  voice.  You  will  wonder  to  see  how  well  we  are 
acquainted  already:  in  a  word,  I  think  myself  very  happy,  for  I 
am  confident  our  two  humours  will  agree  very  well  together." 

In  the  register  of  St.  Thomas  a  Becket,  Portsmouth,  may  be 
seen  the  entry  of  the  King's  marriage  with  his  Portuguese  wife. 

9  Charles  and  his  bride  arrived  at  Hampton  Court  2Qth  May 
1662,  and  the  Court  removed  to  London  probably  some  time  in 
June. 

7  Charles  II.  was  born  2Qth  May  1630,  and  died  6th  February 
1684-5.      His    character    is  very   amply    detailed    and   accurately 
depicted  by  Geprge  Saville,  Marquis  of  Halifax.    See  also  Evelyn, 
Burnet,  Clarendon,  and  Sheffield,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  etc. 

8  James,  Duke  of  York,  afterwards  King  James  II.     He  was 
born    15th    October   1633 ;   succeeded  his   brother   6th  February 
1684-5  5  abdicated  the  crown  in   1688 ;  and  died  6th   September 
1701.     Bishop  Burnet's  character  of  him  appears  not  very   far 
from  the  truth.    "  He  was,"  says  this  writer,  "  very  brave  in  his 
youth ;  and  so  much  magnified  by  Monsieur  Turenne,  that  till 
his   marriage    lessened   him,   he    really   clouded   the    King,   and 
passed   for  the  superior  genius.     He  was  naturally  candid  and 
sincere,  and  a  firm  friend,  till  affairs  and  his  religion  wore  out 
all  his  first  principles  and  inclinations.    He  had  a  great  desire  to 
understand   affairs;    and   in  order   to   that   he  kept  a   constant 
journal  of  all  that  passed,  of  which  he  showed  me  a  great  deal. 
The  Duke  of   Buckingham  gave  me   once   a   short  but   severe 
character  of  the  two  brothers.    It  was  the  more  severe,  because 
it  was  true;  the  King  (he  said)   could  see  things  if  he  would: 


92         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

an  inviolable  attachment  for  his  word,  great  economy 
in  his  affairs,  hauteur,  application,  arrogance,  each  in 
their  turn.  A  scrupulous  observer  of  the  rules  of  duty 
and  the  laws  of  justice,  he  was  accounted  a  faithful 
friend,  and  an  implacable  enemy. 

His  morality  and  justice,  struggling  for  some  time 
with  prejudice,  had  at  last  triumphed,  by  his  acknowl- 
edging for  his  wife  Miss  Hyde,'  maid  of  honour  to 
the  Princess  Royal,  whom  he  had  secretly  married  in 

and  the  Duke  would  see  things  if  he  could.  He  had  no  true 
judgment,  and  was  soon  determined  by  those  whom  he  trusted: 
but  he  was  obstinate  against  all  other  advices.  He  was  bred 
with  high  notions  of  kingly  authority,  and  laid  it  down  for  a 
maxim,  that  all  who  opposed  the  King  were  rebels  in  their 
hearts.  He  was  perpetually  in  one  amour  or  other,  without 
being  very  nice  in  his  choice :  upon  which  the  King  once  said, 
he  believed  his  brother  had  his  mistress  given  him  by  his  priests 
for  penance.  He  was  naturally  eager  and  revengeful:  and  was 
against  the  taking  off  any  that  set  up  in  an  opposition  to  the 
measures  of  the  Court,  and  'who  by  that  means  grew  popular 
in  the  House  of  Commons.  He  was  for  rougher  methods.  He 
continued  many  years  dissembling  his  religion,  and  seemed 
zealous  for  the  Church  of  England,  but  it  was  chiefly  on  design 
to  hinder  all  propositions  that  tended  to  unite  us  among  our- 
selves. He  was  a  frugal  prince,  and  brought  his  Court  into 
method  and  magnificence,  for  he  had  £100,000  a  year  allowed 
him.  He  was  made  High  Admiral,  and  he  came  to  understand 
all  the  concerns  of  the  sea  very  particularly"  (History  of  his 
Own  Time.) 

8  Anne  Hyde,  eldest  daughter  of  Lord  Chancellor  Clarendon  (b. 
1637,  ob.  1671).  James  himself  mentions  his  marriage  in  these 
terms:  "The  King  at  first1  refused  the  Duke  of  York's  marriage 
with  Miss  Hyde.  Many  of  the  Duke's  friends  and  servants 
opposed  it.  The  King  at  last  consented,  and  the  Duke  of  York 
privately  married  her,  and  soon  after  owned  the  marriage. 
Her  want  of  birth  was  made  up  by  endowments;  and  her  car- 
riage afterwards  became  her  acquired  dignity."  Again :  "  When 
his  sister,  the  Princess  Royal,  came  to  Paris  to  see  the  Queen 
Mother,  the  Duke  of  York  fell  in  love  with  Mrs.  Anne  Hyde, 
one  of  her  maids  of  honour.  Besides  her  perscfti,  she  had  all  the 
qualities  proper  to  inflame  a  heart  less  apt  to  take  fire  than  his; 
which  she  managed  so  well  as  to  bring  his  passion  to  such  an 
height,  that,  between  the  time  he  first  saw  her  and  the  winter 
before  the  King's  restoration,  he  resolved  to  marry  none  but  her ; 
and  promised  her  to  do  it:  and  though,  at  first,  when  the  Duke 
asked  the  King  his  brother  for  his  leave,  he  refused,  and 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  93 

Holland.  Her  father,10  from  that  time  Prime"  Min- 
ister of  England,  supported  by  this  new  interest,  soon 
rose  to  the  head  of  affairs,  and  had  almost  ruined 
them :  not  that  he  wanted  capacity,  but  he  was  too  self- 
sufficient. 

dissuaded  him  from  it,  yet  at  last  he  opposed  it  no  more;  and 
the  Duke  married  her  privately,  owned  it  some  time  after,  and 
was  ever  after  a  true  friend  to  the  Chancellor  for  several  years" 
(Macpherson's  State  Papers,  vol.  i.).  Pepys  in  his  Diary,  7th 
October  1660,  says:  "To  my  Lord's,  and  dined  with  him;  he 
all  dinner-time  talking  French  to  me,  and  telling  me  the  story 
how  the  Duke  of  York  hath  got  the  Lord  Chancellor's  daughter 
with  child,  and  that  she  do  lay  it  to  him,  and  that  for  certain 
he  did  promise  her  marriage,  and  had  signed  it  with  his  blood, 
but  that  he  by  stealth  had  got  the  paper  out  of  her  cabinet. 
And  that  the  King  would  have  him  to  marry  her,  but  that  he 
will  not.  So  that  the  thing  is  very  bad  for  the  Duke  and  them 
all ;  but  my  Lord  do  make  light  of  it,  as  a  thing  that  he  believes  is 
not  a  new  thing  for  the  Duke  to  do  abroad."  Again,  23rd 
February  1660-1 :  "  Mr.  Hartlett  told  me  how  my  Lord  Chan- 
cellor had  lately  got  the  Duke  of  York  and  Duchesse  and  her 
woman,  my  Lord  Ossory,  and  a  doctor,  to  make  oath  before  most 
of  the  judges  of  the  kingdom,  concerning  all  the  circumstances 
of  the  marriage.  And  in  fine,  it  is  confessed  that  they  were  not 
fully  married  till  about  a  month  or  two  before  she  was  brought 
to  bed;  but  that  they  were  contracted  long  before,  and  time 
enough  for  the  child  to  be  legitimate.  But  I  do  not  hear  that  it 
was  put  to  the  judges  to  determine  whether  it  was  so  or  no."  She 
was  contracted  to  the  Duke  at  Breda,  24th  November  1659,  and 
married  at  Worcester  House,  3rd  September  1660,  in  the  night, 
between  eleven  and  two,  by  Dr.  Joseph  Crowther,  the  Duke's 
chaplain;  the  Lord  Ossory  giving  her  in  marriage  (Kennet's 
Register,  p.  246). 

"Edward  Hyde,  Earl  of  Clarendon  (b.  1608,  ob.  1674),  "for 
his  comprehensive  knowledge  of  mankind,  styled  the  Chancellor 
of  Human  Nature.  His  character,  at  this  distance  of  time,  may 
and  ought  to  be  impartially  considered.  Designing  or  blinded 
contemporaries  heaped  the  most  unjust  abuse  upon  him.  The 
subsequent  age,  when  the  partisans  of  prerogative  were  at  least 
the  loudest,  if  not  the  most  numerous,  smit  with  a  work  that 
deified  their  martyr,  have  been  unbounded  in  their  encomium" 
(Catalogue  of  Noble  Authors,  vol.  ii.  p.  18).  Lord  Or  ford, 
who  professes  to  steer  a  middle  course,  and  separate  his  great 
virtues  as  a  man  from  his  faults  as  an  historian,  acknowledges 
that  he  possessed  almost  every  virtue  of  a  minister  which  could 
make  his  character  venerable. 

"Then  already  a  minister  (Vizetelly's  translation). 


94         THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

The  Duke  of  Ormonde1*  possessed  the  confidence  and 
esteem  of  his  master :  the  greatness  of  his  services,  the 
splendour  of  his  merit  and  his  birth,  and  the  fortune  he 
had  abandoned  in  adhering  to  the  fate  of  his  Prince, 
rendered  him  worthy  of  it:  nor  durst  the  courtiers 
even  murmur  at  seeing  him  Grand  Steward  of  the 
Household,  First  Lord  of  the  Bedchamber,  and  Lord- 
Lieutenant  of  Ireland.  He  exactly  resembled  the 
Marshal  de  Gramont,  in  the  turn  of  his  wit  and  the 
nobleness  of  his  manners,  and  like  him  was  the  honour 
of  his  master's  court. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham12  and  the  Earl  of  St. 
Albans"  were  the  same  in  England  as  they  appeared  in 

"James  Butler,  Duke  of  Ormonde  (b.  1610.  ob.  1688).  This 
distinguished  Royalist  succeeded  his  grandfather  as  twelfth  Earl 
in  1632,  and  was  created  Duke  at  the  Restoration.  During  the 
Civil  War  he  held  Ireland  for  the  King  when  Charles  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  Parliament,  when  he  retired  to  France.  Bishop 
Burnet  says  of  him :  "  He  was  a  man  every  way  fitted  for  a 
court;  of  a  graceful  appearance,  a  lively  wit,  and  a  cheerful 
temper ;  a  man  of  great  expense ;  decent  even  in  his  vices,  for  he 
always  kept  up  the  form  of  religion.  He  had  gone  through  many 
transactions  in  Ireland  with  more  fidelity  than  success.  He  had 
made  a  treaty  with  the  Irish,  which  was  broken  by  the  great 
body  of  them,  though  some  few  of  them  adhered  still  to  him. 
But  the  whole  Irish  nation  did  still  pretend,  that  though  they 
had  broke  the  agreement  first,  yet  he,  or  rather  the  King,  in 
whose  name  he  had  treated  with  them,  was  bound  to  perform  all 
the  articles  of  the  treaty.  He  had  miscarried  so  in  the  siege  of 
Dublin,  that  it  very  much  lessened  the  opinion  of  his  military 
conduct.  Yet  his  constant  attendance  on  his  master,  his  easiness 
to  him,  and  his  great  suffering  for  him,  raised  him  to  be  Lord- 
Steward  of  the  Household,  and  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland.  He 
was  firm  to  the  Protestant  religion,  and  so  far  firm  to  the  laws, 
that  he  always  gave  good  advices;  but  when  bad  ones  were 
followed,  he  was  not  for  complaining  too  much  of  them" 
(History  of  his  Own  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  230).  An  interesting 
detailed  account  of  Ormonde's  last  days  is  given  by  his  friend, 
Sir  Robert  Southwell  (see  Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.  pp. 


757-758). 
u  "The 


Duke  of  Buckingham  is  again  one  hundred  and  forty 
thousand  pounds  in  debt,  and  by  this  prorogation  his  creditors 
have  time  to  tear  all  his  lands  to  pieces"  (Andrew  Marvell's 
Works,  4to  edit.  vol.  i.  p.  406). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  9$ 

France:  the  one,  full  of  wit  and  vivacity,  dissipated, 
without  splendour,  an  immense  estate  upon  which  he 
had  just  entered :  the  other,  a  man  of  no  great  genius, 
had  raised  himself  a  considerable  fortune  from  noth- 
ing, and  by  losing  at  play,  and  keeping  a  great  table, 
made  it  appear  greater  than  it  was. 

Sir  George  Berkeley,16  afterwards  Earl  of  Falmouth, 

"Henry  Jermyn,  younger  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Jermyn,  was 
attached  at  an  early  age  to  the  Court  of  Charles  I.,  and  during 
the  Civil  War  acted  as  Secretary  to  the  Queen,  to  whose  favour 
he  owed  his  advancement.  In  1643  he  was  created  Baron  Jermyn 
of  Bury  St.  Edmunds,  and  in  the  following  year  was  appointed 
Governor  of  Jersey.  His  rival  and  enemy,  Lord  Clarendon, 
records  that  out  of  the  scanty  finances  of  the  exiled  court  Jermyn 
managed  to  live  luxuriously.  When  the  young  King  left  France 
for  the  Netherlands,  Jermyn  remained  at  Paris  with  the  queen 
mother,  to  whom,  by  current  report,  he  was  secretly  married,  and 
treated  far  from  well  (vide  Pepys,  Reresby,  and  Burnet).  In 
1660  he  was  created  Earl  of  St.  Albans,  and  acted  as  English 
Ambassador  at  the  Court  of  France,  where  he  had  great  in- 
fluence, and  helped  in  a  great  measure  the  secret  treaty  with 
Louis  XIV.  In  1671  he  was  appointed  Lord  Chamberlain  of  the 
King's  Household.  Jermyn  died  at  his  house  in  St.  James's 
Square  in  January  1683-4  (oet.  about  eighty).  [This  square  was 
originally  planned  by  him.]  Evelyn,  who  saw  the  Earl  a  few 
months  before  his  death,  says  that  though  he  was  nearly  blind 
he  was  as  great  a  gambler  as  ever  and  had  to  have  "  some  one 
that  sits  by  him  to  name  the  spots  on  the  cards.  He  ate  and 
drank  with  extraordinary  appetite,  though  he  could  not  see  to 
take  his  food"  (vide  Evelyn's  Diary,  i8th  August  1683).  For 
many  years  Cowley  acted  as  his  private  secretary.  Andrew 
Marvell  does  not  allude  to  him  in  flattering  terms :  he  speaks  of 
his  "drayman's  shoulders  and  butcher's  mien"  ("Last  Instruc- 
tions to  a  Painter,"  see  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biography,  vol.  xxix.  pp. 
342-344).  The  old  seat  of  the  Jermyns,  Rushbrooke  Hall,  near 
Bury  St.  Edmunds,  is  full  of  memories  of  the  Stuarts — relics, 
portraits,  etc.  The  rooms,  with  their  quaint  old  furniture,  are 
in  their  original  state. 

"This  was  not  George,  but  Charles  Berkeley,  second  son  of 
Sir  Charles  Berkeley  (who,  like  his  brother,  Sir  John  Berkeley 
of  Stratton  [the  author  of  the  Berkeley  Memoirs']  was  eminently 
loyal  to  Charles  T.).  He  was  the  principal  favourite  and  com- 
panion of  the  Duke  of  York  in  all  his  campaigns.  He  was  created 
Baron  Berkeley  of  Rathdown,  and  Viscount  (1663)  Fitzharding 
of  Ireland,  and  Earl  of  Falmouth  in  1665.  Lord  Clarendon  calls 
him  "a  fellow  of  great  wickedness,"  and  says,  "he  was  one  in 


$6        THE  COURT  OF  CHARI1ES   IT 

was  the  confidant  and  favourite  of  the  King:  he 
commanded  the  Duke  of  York's  regiment  of  guards, 
and  governed  the  Duke  himself.  He  had  nothing 
very  remarkable  either  in  his  wit  or  his  person;  but 
his  sentiments  were  worthy  of  the  fortune  which 
awaited  him,  when,  on  the  very  point  of  his  elevation, 
he  was  killed  at  sea.  Never  did  disinterestedness  so 
perfectly  characterise  the  greatness  of  the  soul:  he 
had  no  views  but  what  tended  to  the  glory  of  his 
master :  his  credit  was  never  employed  but  in  advising 

whom  few  other  men  (except  the  King)  had  ever  observed  any 
virtue  or  quality,  which  they  did  not  wish  their  best  friends 
without.  He  was  young  and  of  an  unsatiable  ambition,  and  a 
little  more  experience  might  have  taught  him  all  things  which 
his  weak  parts  were  capable  of"  (Clarendon's  Life,  pp.  34,  267). 
Bishop  Burnet  Is  rather  more  favourable.  "  Berkeley,"  says  he, 
"  was  generous  in  his  expense ;  and  it  was  thought  if  he  had  out- 
lived the  tewdness  of  that  time  and  come  to  a  more  sedate 
course  of  life,  he  would  have  put  the  King  on  great  and  noble 
designs"  (History,  vol.  i.  p.  137).  While  Pepys  says  he  owed 
his  greatness  to  being  "  a  pimp  to  the  King  and  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine,"  being  able  to  bring  the  former  to  the  latter  from  the 
Council  Chamber  whenever  he  pleased  (Diary:  I5th  Dec.  1662 
and  3ist  July  1663).  He  lost  his  life  in  the  action  at  Southwold 
Bay,  2nd  June  1665  by  a  shot,  which,  at  the  same  time,  killed 
Lord  Muskerry  and  Mr.  Boyle,  as  they  were  standing  on  the 
quarter-deck,  near  the  Duke  of  York.  Pepys  thus  records  the 
fact :  "  The  Earl  of  Falmouth,  Muskerry,  and  Mr.  Boyle  killed  on 
board  the  Duke's  ship,  The  Royal  Charles,  with  one  shot;  their 
blood  and  brains  flying  in  the  Duke's  face,  and  the  head  of  Mr. 
Boyle  striking  down  the  Duke  as  some  say"  (Diary,  8th  June 
1665).  "He  was,"  says  Clarendon,  "lamented  by  the  King  with 
floods  of  tears,  to  the  amazement  of  all  who  had  seen  how  un- 
shaken he  stood  on  other  assaults  of  fortune"  (Clarendon's  Life, 
p.  269).  Even  his  death  did  not  save  him  from  Marvell's  satire. 

"Falmouth  was  there,  I  know  not  what  to  act, 
Some  say,  'twas  to  grow  duke  too  by  contract; 
An  untaught  bullet,  in  its  wanton  scope, 
Dashes  him  all  to  pieces,  and  his  hope: 
Such  was  his  rise,  such  was  his  fall  unpraised, — 
A  chance  shot  sooner  took  him  than  chance  raised; 
His  shattered  head  the  fearless  duke  disdains, 
And  gave  the  last  first  proof  that  he  had  brains." 

Advice  to  a  Painter,  p.  I. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  97 

him  to  reward  services,  or  to  confer  favours  on  merit : 
so  polished  in  conversation,  that  the  greater  his  power, 
the  greater  was  his  humility;  and  so  sincere  in  all  his 
proceedings,  that  he  would  never  have  been  taken  for 
a  courtier. 

The  Duke  of  Ormonde's  sons  and  his  nephews  had 
been  in  the  King's  Court  during  his  exile,  and  were 
far  from  diminishing  its  lustre  after  his  return.  The 
Earl  of  Arran19  had  a  singular  address  in  all  kinds  of 
exercises,  played  well  at  tennis  and  on  the  guitar, 
and  was  pretty  successful  in  gallantry.  His  elder 
brother,  the  Earl  of  Ossory,17  was  not  so  lively, 
but  of  the  most  liberal  sentiments,  and  of  great 
brobity. 

"Richard  Butler,  Earl  of  Arran,  fifth  son  of  James  Butler, 
the  first  Duke  of  Ormonde  (b.  1639,  ob.  1686).  Created  Earl  of 
Arran  1662.  He  married  in  1664  Lady  Mary  Stuart,  only  sur- 
viving daughter  of  James,  Duke  of  Richmond  and  Lennox,  by 
Mary,  only  daughter  of  the  great  Duke  of  Buckingham  (she 
died  three  years  later,  aged  18).  In  1673  he  married,  secondly, 
Dorothy,  daughter  of  John  Ferrers  of  Tamworth.  His  only 
daughter,  Charlotte,  married  Charles,  Lord  Cornwallis.  Pepys 
speaks  of  his  "glorious  dancing"  at  the  masquerade  of  2nd 
February  1664  {-vide  chap.  vii.  of  these  Memoirs},  when  th'e 
Earl  of  Mulgrave  was  disgraced  for  paying  his  addresses  to  the 
Princess  Anne,  of  whom  he  was  also  an  admirer  (vide  Hist. 
MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.  p.  480). 

17  Thomas,  Earl  of  Ossory,  eldest  son  of  the  first,  and  father  of 
the  last  Duke  of  Ormonde  (b.  1634,  ?&•  1680).  At  the  age  of 
twenty-one  years  he  had  so  much  distinguished  himself  that  Sir 
Robert  Southwell  then  drew  th'e  following  character  of  him: 
"  He  is  a  young  man  with  a  very  handsome  face ;  a  good  head  of 
hair;  well  set;  very  good  natured;  rides  the  great  horse  very 
well;  is  a  very  good  tennis-player,  fencer,  and  dancer;  under- 
stands music,  and  plays  on  the  guitar  and  lute;  speaks  French 
elegantly;  reads  Italian  fluently;  is  a  good  historian;  and  so 
well  versed  in  romances  that  if  a  gallery  be  full  of  pictures 
and  hangings  he  will  tell  the  stories  of  all  that  are  th'ere 
described.  He  shuts  up  his  door  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening 
and  studies  till  midnight:  he  is  temperate,  courteous,  and  excel- 
lent in  all  his  behaviour.  Lord  Ossory  married  in  1659  Emilie  de 
Nassau,  eldest  daughter  of  Louis  de  Nassau,  Lord  Beverwaert, 
in  Holland,  the  illegitimate  son  of  Maurice,  Prince  of  Orange. 
Her  sister  married  Lord  Arlington. 


98         THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

The  elder  of  the  Hamiltons,1*  their  cousin,  was  the 
man  who  of  all  the  Court  dressed  best:  he  was  well 
made  in  his  person,  and  possessed  those  happy  talents 
which  lead  to  fortune,  and  procure  success  in  love :  he 
was  a  most  assiduous  courtier,  had  the  most  lively  wit, 
the  most  polished  manners,  and  the  most  punctual  at- 
tention to  his  master  imaginable.  No  person  danced 
better,  nor  was  any  one  a  more  general  lover :  a  merit 
of  some  account  in  a  court  entirely  devoted  to  love 
and  gallantry. 

It  is  not  at  all  surprising,  that  with  these  qualities 
he  succeeded  my  Lord  Falmouth  in  the  King's  favour ; 
but  it  is  very  extraordinary  that  he  should  have 
experienced  the  same  destiny,  as  if  this  sort  of 
war  had  been  declared  against  merit  only,  and 
as  if  this  sort  of  combat  was  fatal  to  none  but 
such  as  had  certain  hopes  of  a  splendid  fortune. 
This,  however,  did  not  happen  till  some  years 
afterwards. 

The  beau  Sidney,"  less  dangerous  than  he  appeared 
to  be,  had  not  sufficient  vivacity  to  support  the  im- 
pression which  his  figure  made ;  but  little  Jermyn  was 
on  all  sides  successful  in  his  intrigues.  The  old  Earl 
of  St.  Albans,  his  uncle,  had  for  a  long  time  adopted 
him,  though  the  youngest  of  all  his  nephews.  It  is 
well  known  what  a  table  the  good20  man  kept  at  Paris, 
while  the  King,  his  master,  was  starving  at  Brussels, 

"James  Hamilton,  eldest  son  of  Sir  George  Hamilton.  He 
and  his  younger  brother  George  are  the  two  Hamiltons  who 
figure  in  the  Memoirs.  Ob.  1673,  vide  Prefatory  Notice. 

"Henry  Sidney  (ob.  1704),  youngest  son  of  Robert  Sidney, 
second  Earl  of  Leicester,  and  brother  of  Algernon  and  Colonel 
Robert  (the  reputed  father  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  [vide 
King  Monmouth]).  He  attended  Charles  II.  in  exile,  and  was 
Master  of  the  Horse  to  Anne  Hyde,  Duchess  of  York.  He  was 
created  Earl  of  Romney  in  1694  (vide  his  Diary  and  Corre- 
spondence, 1843).  Burnet  says  he  was  much  addicted  to  pleasure, 
and  that  some  of  his  adventures  became  very  public. 

"Old,  not  good  (Vizetelly's  translation). 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  99 

and  the  Queen  Dowager,  his  mistress/1  lived  not  over 
well  in  France. 

nTo  what  a  miserable  state  the  Queen  was  reduced  may  be 
seen  in  the  following  extract  from  De  Retz :  "  Four  or  five 
days  before  the  King  removed  from  Paris,  I  went  to  visit  the 
Queen  of  England,  whom  I  found  in  her  daughter's  chamber,  who 
hath  been  since  Duchess  of  Orleans.  At  my  coming  in  she  said : 
'  You  see  I  am  come  to  keep  Henrietta  company.  The  poor 
child  could  not  rise  to-day  for  want  of  a  fire.'  The  truth  is,  that 
the  Cardinal  for  six  months  together  had  not  ordered  her  any 
money  towards  her  pension ;  that  no  tradespeople  would  trust 
her  for  anything;  and  that  there  was  not  at  her  lodgings  in  the 
Louvre  one  single  billet.  You  will  do  me  the  justice  to  suppose 
that  the  Princess  of  England  did  not  keep  her  bed  the  next  day 
for  want  of  a  faggot ;  but  it  was  not  this  which  the  Princess 
of  Conde  meant  in  her  letter.  What  she  spoke  about  was,  that 
some  days  after  my  visiting  the  Queen  of  England,  I  remem- 
bered the  condition  I  had  found  her  in,  and  had  strongly  repre- 
sented the  shame  of  abandoning  her  in  that  manner,  which  caused 
the  Parliament  to  send  40,000  livres  to  Her  Majesty.  Posterity 
will  hardly  believe  that  a  Princess  of  England,  granddaughter 
of  Henry  the  Great,  had  wanted  a  faggot,  in  the  month  of 
January,  to  get  out  of  bed  in  the  Louvre,  and  in  the  eyes  of  a 
French  court.  We  read  in  histories,  with  horror,  of  baseness  less 
monstrous  than  this ;  and  the  little  concern  I  have  met  with 
about  it  in  most  people's  minds  has  obliged  me  to  make,  I  believe, 
a  thousand  times,  this  reflection :  that  examples  of  times  past 
move  men  beyond  comparison  more  than  those  of  their  own 
times.  We  accustom  ourselves  to  what  we  see;  and  I  have 
sometimes  told  you,  that  I  doubted  whether  Caligula's  horse 
being  made  a  consul  would  have  surprised  us  so  much  as  we 
imagine"  (Memoirs,  vol.  i.  p.  261).  As  for  the  relative  situation 
of  the  King  and  Lord  Jermyn  (afterwards  St.  Albans),  Lord 
Clarendon  says,  that  the  "  Marquis  of  Ormonde  was  compelled 
to  put  himself  in  prison,  with  other  gentlemen,  at  a  pistole  a 
week  for  his  diet,  and  to  walk  the  streets  a-foot,  which  was  no 
honourable  custom  in  Paris,  whilst  the  Lord  Jermyn  kept  an 
excellent  table  for  those  who  courted  him,  and  had  a  coach  of 
his  own,  and  all  other  accommodations  incident  to  the  most  full 
fortune:  and  if  the  King  had  the  most  urgent  occasion  for  the 
use  but  of  twenty  pistoles,  as  sometimes  he  had,  he  could  not 
find  credit  to  borrow  it,  which  he  often  had  experiment  of" 
(History  of  the  Rebellion,  vol.  iii.  p.  2).  Lord  Dartmouth,  in  a 
note  to  Burnet's  History  of  his  Own  Time,  mentions  a  story  of 
how  the  Duke  of  Hamilton  was  upon  one  occasion  an  unwilling 
witness  to  some  love  passage  between  Jermyn  and  the  Queen, 
and  in  an  old  MS.  volume  in  the  possession  of  the  Earl  of 
Egmont  is  the  following  curious  entry :  "  Queen  Henrietta  Maria 

4 — Memoirs  Vol.  4 


•zoo       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

Jermyn,"  supported  by  his  uncle's  wealth,  found  it 
no  difficult  matter  to  make  a  considerable  figure  upon 
his  arrival  at  the  Court  of  the  Princess  of  Orange : 
the  poor  courtiers  of  the  King  her  brother  could  not 
vie  with  him  in  point  of  equipage  and  magnificence; 
and  these  two  articles  often  produce  as  much  success 
in  love  as  real  merit.  There  is  no  necessity  for  any 
other  example  than  the  present;  for  though  Jermyn 
was  brare,  and  certainly  a  gentleman,  yet  he  had 
neither  brilliant  actions  nor  distinguished  rank  to  set 
him  off;  and  as  for  his  figure,  there  was  nothing  ad- 
vantageous in  it.  He  was  little:  his  head  was  large 
and  his  legs  small ;  his  features  were  not  disagreeable, 
but  he  was  affected  in  his  carriage  and  behaviour.  All 
his  wit  consisted  in  expressions  learnt  by  rote,  which 
he  occasionally  employed  either  in  raillery  or  in  love. 
This  was  the  whole  foundation  of  the  merit  of  a  man 
so  formidable  in  amours. 

— Thomas  Carew,  Gentleman  of  the  Privy  Chamber,  going  to 
light  King  Charles  into  her  chamber,  saw  Jermyn,  Lord  St. 
Albans,  with  his  arm  round  her  neck ;  he  stumbled  and  put  out 
the  light;  Jermyn  escaped;  Carew  never  told  the  King,  and  the 
King  never  knew  it.  The  Queen  heaped  favours  on  Carew.  She 
quarrelled  with  Jermyn  and  tore  her  will ;  after  reconciliation 
she  made  another  will  in  his  favour;  he  brought  it  to  her  to  sign, 
but  she  being  asleep  he  deferred  it  till  the  next  morning,  when 
she  was  found  dead  of  a  dose  of  laudanum  she  had  taken,  1669. 
My  authority  [says  the  writer]  is  old  G.  Clarke,  Esq.,  formerly 
Lord  of  the  Admiralty  and  Secretary  to  Prince  George  of  Den- 
mark" (Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.  p.  244). 

As  to  the  Queen  Dowager's  will,  we  learn  something  further 
from  the  Verney  MSS.  W.  Denton,  writing  to  Sir  Ralph  V'erney 
says:  "September  7,  1669 — The  night  the  Queen  Mother  died 
she  called  for  her  will,  said  she  did  not  like  it,  tore  off  the  ?onls, 
said  she  would  alter  it  to-morrow.  She  complained  much  of 
want  of  sleep,  so  an  opiate  was  ordained  her,  and  her  physician 
who  watched  with  her  to  give  or  not  give  it  to  her,  he  did  not 
like  to  givo  it  her,  but  her  impatiency  extorted  it  from  him,  but 
she  Hied  that  night"  (Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.  p.  448). 

K  Henry  Jermyn,  first  Baron  Dover,  second  son  of  Thomas 
Jermyn  of  Rushbrooke  Hall,  near  Bury  St.  Edmunds,  nephew  of 
Henry  Jermyn,  Earl  of  St.  Albans,  and  younger  brother  of 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  101 

The  Princess  Royal  was  the  first  who  was  taken 
with  him.18  Miss  Hyde  seemed  to  be  following  the 
steps  of  her  mistress:  this  immediately  brought  him 
into  credit,  and  his  reputation  was  established  in  Eng- 
land before  his  arrival.  Prepossession  in  the  minds 
of  women  is  sufficient  to  find  access  to  their  hearts; 
Jermyn  found  them  in  dispositions  so  favourable  for 
him,  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  speak. 

It  was  in  vain  they  perceived  that  a  reputation  so 
lightly  established  was  still  more  weakly  sustained :  the 
prejudice  remained.  The  Countess  of  Castlemaine,24 
a  woman  lively  and  discerning,  followed  the  delusive 
shadow ;  and  though  undeceived  in  a  reputation  which 
promised  so  much,  and  performed  so  little,  she  never- 

Thomas,  who  succeeded  his  uncle  as  second  Baron  Jermyn  in 
1683-4.  Attached  to  the  household  of  the  Duke  of  York  prior  to 
the  Restoration.  Charles  II.'s  sister  Mary,  the  widowed  Princess 
of  Orange,  was  on  such  intimate  terms  with  Jermyn  that  the 
rumor  got  abroad  that  he  was  secretly  married  to  her  as  his 
uncle  was  said  to  be  to  her  mother.  After  the  Restoration,  when 
Master  of  the  Horse  to  the  Duke  of  York,  he  became  notorious 
for  gambling  and  debauchery.  His  amorous  intrigues  are  fully 
dealt  with  in  these  Memoirs.  With  the  accession  of  James,  he 
was  made  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Cambridgeshire,  appointed  Privy 
Councillor  and  created  Baron  Dover,  and  became  one  of  the 
King's  chief  Catholic  advisers  in  1688,  when  he  was  entrusted 
with  the  care  of  the  little  Prince  of  Wales.  At  the  battle  of  the 
Boyne  he  also  commanded  a  troop  for  the  ab  cated  King,  but 
was  induced  eventually  to  accept  overtures  from  William  III., 
to  whom  he  became  reconciled  about  1692  (vide  Evelyn,  7th 
November  1692).  In  1703  he  succeeded  his  brother  Thomas,  as 
third  Baron  Jermyn  of  Bury  St.  Edmunds,  and  died  at  his  country 
house,  Cheveley  Park,  near  Newmarket,  where  Charles  II. 
occasionally  used  to  stop  during  the  races  (vide  King  Mon- 
mouth').  Ob.  1708.  He  was  buried  at  Bruges.  By  his  wife, 
Judith  Pooley,  he  had  an  only  daughter,  who  died  young.  The 
peerage  therefore  became  extinct.  (See  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biography, 
vol.  xxix.  pp.  344-345). 

23  It  was  suspected  of  this  princess  to  have  had  a  similar  en- 
gagement with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  as  the  Queen  with 
Jermyn,  and  that  was  the  cause  she  would  not  see  the  Duke  on 
his  second  voyage  to  Holland,  in  the  year  1652. 

14  Vide  her  Memoir  in  the  Appendix. 


102       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

theless  continued  in  her  infatuation;  she  even  persisted 
in  it,  until  she  was  upon  the  point  of  embroiling  her- 
self with  the  King;  so  great  was  this  first  instance  of 
her  constancy. 

Such  were  the  heroes  of  the  Court.  As  for  the 
beauties,  you  could  not  look  anywhere  without  seeing 
them :  those  of  the  greatest  reputation  were  this  same 
Countess  of  Castlemaine,  afterwards  Duchess  of 
Cleveland,  Lady  Chesterfield,  Lady  Shrewsbury,*  Mrs. 
Roberts,  Mrs.  Middleton,26  the  Misses  Brooke,"  and  a 
thousand  others,  who  also  shone  at  Court  with  equal 

28  Anna  Maria,  Countess  of  Shrewsbury,  eldest  daughter  of 
Robert  Brudenel,  second  Earl  of  Cardigan,  and  wife  of  Francis 
Talbot,  eleventh  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  married  loth  January 
1658-9.  The  duel  in  which  he  was  killed  by  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, i6th  January  1667-8,  is  mentioned  later  on  in  the  Memoirs 
(see  p.  348).  After  living  for  some  years  as  the  victor's  para- 
mour, the  Countess  married,  secondly,  in  1680,  George  Rodney 
Bridges,  Esq.  (of  Keynsham  and  Avington),  second  son  of  Sir 
Thomas  Bridges  (vide  King  Monmouth).  A  pension  of  £1600 
granted  her  by  Charles  II.  was  stopped  in  William  III.'s  reign 
(see  petition  of  her  husband,  March  1697,  State  Papers  Dom. 
Petition  Book  20). 

By  her  first  husband  she  had  two  sons — Charles,  afterwards 
created  Duke  of  Shrewsbury  (ob.  s.  p.),  and  John  Talbot,  who 
was  killed  in  a  duel,  2nd  February  1685,  by  Henry,  Duke  of  Graf- 
ton.  By  her  second  husband  she  left  a  son  George,  who  died 
without  issue  in  1751.  He  was  found  drowned  in  the  lake  at 
Avington  Park.  The  old  Jacobean  mansion  of  Avington  (Hants), 
which  came  into  the  Countess's  possession  through  her  second 
marriage,  still  retains  the  "  old  Banqueting  Hall "  and  "  Nell 
Gwyn's  closet,"  associated  with  the  pleasure  visits  of  the  "  Merry 
Monarch." 

The  Countess  of  Shrewsbury  died  in  1702.  Her  husband  sur- 
vived her  eleven  years,  and  was  buried  in  the  same  grave  at  St. 
Giles  in  the  Fields.  "See  footnote,  p.  112. 

87  The  three  Misses  Brooke,  Hill,  Frances,  and  Margaret,1  were 
the  daughters  of  Sir  William  Brooke  (the  grandson  of  William 
Brooke,  Lord  Cobham),  ob.  in  Cromwell's  service,  30th  September 
1643.  Their  mother,  Penelope  (daughter  of  Sir  Moyses  Hill,  Kt., 
of  Hillsborough,  Co.  Down),  married,  secondly,  Hon.  Edward 
Russell,  son  of  Francis,  fourth  Earl  of  Bedford.  The  Earl  of 
Bristol  mentioned  in  the  Memoirs  as  having  introduced  the 
Misses  Brooke  to  the  King  (see  p.  189)  was  their  stepfather's 

1  She  is  sometimes  named  Elizabeth  in  error. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  103 

lustre;  but  it  was  Miss  Hamilton  and  Miss  Stewart 
who  were  its  chief  ornaments.  The  new  Queen  gave 
but  little  additional  brilliancy  to  the  Court,28  either  in 
her  person  or  in  her  retinue,  which  was  then  composed 

brother-in-law,  he  having  married  Lady  Anne  Russell,  the  Earl 
of  Bedford's  sister. 

Hill,  the  eldest  girl,  married  Sir  William  Boothby,  second  Baro- 
net of  Ashbourn,  Derbyshire;  Frances,  the  second,  married  Sir 
Thomas  Whitmore  of  Buildwas,  Salop,  second  son  of  Sir  Thomas 
Whitmore  of  Apley  Park,  Stockton,  Salop.  Frances  Whitmore, 
the  daughter  of  Lady  Whitmore  nee  Brooke,  married  twice,  her 
second  husband  being  Sir  Richard  Middleton  of  Chirk  Castle, 
Denbighshire  (the  nephew  of  the  famous  Mrs.  Middleton's  hus- 
band). She  also  was  a  great  beauty  (vide  her  full-length  portrait 
at  Hampton  Court).  Lady  Whitmore  married,  secondly,  Mat- 
thew Harvey  of  Twickenham  (nephew  of  the  great  physician), 
where  her  tomb  may  be  seen  bearing  the  arms  of  Harvey  im- 
paling Brooke.  The  husband  survived  her  and  died  in  1690. 
There  is  no  date  of  the  wife's  death. 

28  Lord  Clarendon  confirms,  in  some  measure,  this  account. 
"  There  was  a  numerous  family  of  men  and  women,  that  were 
sent  from  Portugal,  the  most  improper  to  promote  that  conform- 
ity in  the  Queen  that  was  necessary  for  her  condition  and  future 
happiness  that  could  be  chosen ;  the  women,  for  the  most  part, 
old  and  ugly,  and  proud,  incapable  of  any  conversation  with 
persons  of  quality  and  a  liberal  education :  and  they  desired,  and 
indeed  had  conspired  so  far  to  possess  the  Queen  themselves,  that 
she  should  neither  learn  the  English  language  nor  use  their  habit, 
nor  depart  from  the  manners  and  fashions  of  her  own  country 
in  any  particulars :  which  resolution,"  they  told,  "  would  be  for 
the  dignity  of  Portugal,  and  would  quickly  induce  the  English 
ladies  to' conform  to  Her  Majesty's  practice.  And  this  imagina- 
tion had  made  that  impression,  that  the  tailor  who  had  been  sent 
into  Portugal  to  make  her  clothes  could  never  be  admitted  to 
see  her  or  receive  any  employment.  Nor  when  she  came  to 
Portsmouth,  and  found  there  several  ladies  of  honour  and  prime 
quality  to  attend  her  in  the  places  to  which  they  were  assigned 
by  the  King,  did  she  receive  any  of  them  till  the  King  himself 
came;  nor  then  with  any  grace,  or  the  liberty  that  belonged  to 
their  places  and  offices.  She  could  not  be  persuaded  to  be  dressed 
out  of  the  wardrobe  that  the  King  had  sent  to  her,  but  would 
wear  the  clothes  which  she  had  brought,  until  she  found  that 
the  King  was  displeased,  and  would  be  obeyed;  whereupon  she 
conformed,  against  the  advice  of  her  women,  who  continued  their 
opiniatrety,  without  any  one  of  them  receding  from  their  own 
mode,  which  exposed  them  the  more  to  reproach  "  (Continuation 
of  Clarendon's  Life,  p.  168) . 


104       THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

of  the  Countess  de  Panetra,  who  came  over  with  her 
in  quality  of  lady  of  the  bedchamber ;  six  frights,  who 
called  themselves  maids  of  honour,  and  a  duenna,  an- 
other monster,  who  took  the  title  of  governess  to  those 
extraordinary  beauties.** 

Among  the  men  were  Francisco  de  Melo,  brother  to 
the  Countess  de  Panetra ;  one  Taurauvedez,  who  called 
himself  Don  Pedro  Francisco  Correo  de  Silva,  ex- 
tremely handsome,  but  a  greater  fool  than  all  the  Por- 
tuguese put  together :  he  was  more  vain  of  his  names 
than  of  his  person :  but  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  a 
still  greater  fool  than  he.  though  more  addicted  to 
raillery,  gave  him  the  additional  name  of  Peter  of  the 
Wood.  He  was  so  enraged  at  this,  that  after  many 
fruitless  complaints  and  ineffectual  menaces,  poor 
Pedro  de  Silva  was  obliged  to  leave  England,  while 
the  happy  Duke  kept  possession  of  a  Portuguese 
nymph  more  hideous  than  the  Queen's  maids  of 
honour,  whom  he  had  taken  from  him,  as  well  as  two 
of  his  names.  Besides  these,  there  were  six  chaplains, 
four  bakers,  a  Jew  perfumer,  and  a  certain  officer, 
probably  without  an  office,  who  called  himself  her 
Highness's  barber.30  Catharine  of  Braganza  was  far 
from  appearing  with  splendour  in  the  charming  Court 
where  she  came  to  reign ;  however,  in  the  end  she  was 
pretty  successful.81  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  who 

*  These  ladies  were  soon  afterwards  sent  back  to  Portugal. 
**A  suggestion  as  to  this  post  is  mentioned  by  Walpole  in  his 

Strawberry  Hill  edition  of  the  Memoirs. 

*  "  The  Queen  arrived  with  a  train  of  Portuguese  ladies,"  says 
Evelyn,  30th  May  1662,  "  in  their  monstrous  fardingals  or  guard- 
infantas,  their  complexions  olivader  and  sufficiently  unagreeable ; 
Her  Majesty  in  the  same  habit,  her  foretop  long  and  turned  aside 
very  strangely.     She  was  yet  of  the  handsomest  countenance  of 
all  the  rest,  and  though  low  of  stature  prettily  shaped,  languishing 
and  excellent  eyes,  her  teeth  wronging  her  mouth  by  sticking  a 
little  too  far  out :  for  the  rest,  lovely  enough." 

Lord  Clarendon  says :  "  The  Queen  had  beauty  and  wit  enough 
to  make  herself  agreeable  to  him  (the  King)  ;  and  it  is  very  cer- 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  105 

had  been  long-  known  to  the  Royal  Family,  and  to 
most  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  Court,  had  only  to  get 
acquainted  with  the  ladies ;  and  for  this  he  wanted  no 
interpreter:  they  all  spoke  French  enough  to  explain 
themselves,  and  they  all  understood  it  sufficiently  to 
comprehend  what  he  had  to  say  to  them. 

The  Queen's  Couft  was  always  very  numerous;  that 
of  the  Duchess  was  less  so,  but  more  select.  This 
princess82  had  a  majestic  air,  a  pretty  good  shape,  not 
much  beauty,  a  great  deal  of  wit,  and  so  just  a 
discernment  of  merit,  that,  whoever  of  either  sex 
were  possessed  of  it,  were  sure  to  be  distinguished 
by  her. 

tain,  that  at  their  first  meeting,  and  for  some  time  after,  the  King 
had  very  good  satisfaction  in  her.  .  .  .  Though  she  was  of  years 
enough  to  have  had  more  experience  of  the  world,  and  of  as 
much  wit  as  could  be  wished,  and  of  a  humour  very  agreeable 
at  some  seasons,  yet  she  had  been  bred,  according  to  the  mode 
and  discipline  of  her  country,  in  a  monastery,  where  she  had 
only  seen  the  women  who  attended  her,  and  conversed  with  the 
religious  who  resided  there ;  and,  without  doubt,  in  her  inclina- 
tions, was  enough  disposed  to  have  been  one  of  that  number :  and 
from  this  restraint  she  was  called  out  to  be  a  great  Queen,  and 
to  a  free  conversation  in  a  Court  that  was  to  be  upon  the  matter 
new  formed,  and  reduced  from  the  manners  of  a  licentious  age 
to  the  old  rules  and  limits  which  had  been  observed  in  better 
times;  to  which  regular  and  decent  conformity  the  present  dis- 
position of  men  or  women  was  not  enough  inclined  to  submit, 
nor  the  King  enough  disposed  to  exact"  (Continuation  of  Lord 
Clarendon's  Life,  p.  167).  After  some  struggle,  she  submitted  to 
the  King's  licentious  conduct,  and  from  that  time  lived  upon  easy 
terms  with  him  until  his  death.  On  the  30th  March  1692  she  left 
Somerset  House,  her  usual  residence,  and  retired  to  Lisbon, 
where  she  died,  31  st  December  1705. 

33  Anne  Hyde,  Duchess  of  York.  At  the  age  of  twelve  she  ac- 
companied her  mother  (Frances,  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Ailes- 
bury)  and  brothers  to  Antwerp,  and  five  years  later  was  attached 
to  the  train  of  the  Princess  of  Orange,  Charles  II.'s  eldest  sister. 
"  The  Duchess,"  says  Bishop  Burnet,  "  was  a  very  extraordinary 
woman.  She  had  great  knowledge,  and  a  lively  sense  of  things. 
She  soon  understood  what  belonged  to  a  princess,  and  took 
state  on  her  rather  top  much.  She  wrote  well,  and  had  begun 
the  Duke's  life,  of  which  she  showed  me  a  volume.  It  was  all 
drawn  from  his  journal;  and  he  intended  to  have  employed  me 


io6       THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

An  air  of  grandeur  in  all  her  actions  made  her  be 
considered  as  if  born  to  support  the  rank  which  placed 
her  so  near  the  throne.  The  Queen  Dowager  returned 
after  the  marriage  of  the  Princess  Royal,83  and  it  was 
in  her  Court  that  the  two  others  met. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  was  soon  liked  by  all 
parties :  those  who  had  not  known  him  before  were 
surprised  to  see  a  Frenchman  of  his  disposition.  The 
King's  restoration  having  drawn  a  great  number  of 
foreigners  from  all  countries  to  the  Court,  the  French 
were  rather  in  disgrace;  for,  instead  of  any  persons 
of  distinction  having  appeared  among  the  first  who 
came  over,  they  had  only  seen  some  insignificant  pup- 
pies, each  striving  to  outdo  the  other  in  folly  and 
extravagance,  despising  everything  which  was  not  like 
themselves,  and  thinking  they  introduced  the  bel  air, 
by  treating  the  English  as  strangers  in  their  own 
country. 

in  carrying  it  on.  She  was  bred  in  great  strictness  in  religion, 
and  practised  secret  confession.  Morley  told  me  he  was  her  con- 
fessor. She  began  at  twelve  years  old,  and  continued  under  his 
direction  till,  upon  her  father's  disgrace,  he  was  put  from  the 
Court.  She  was  generous  and  friendly,  but  was  too  severe  an 
enemy"  (History  of  his  Own  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  237).  She  died  3ist 
March  1671,  having  adopted  the  Roman  Catholic  faith  three  years 
previously. 

*  Queen  Henrietta  Maria  arrived  at  Whitehall  2nd  November 
1660,  after  nineteen  years'  absence.  She  was  received  with  ac- 
clamations; and  bonfires  were  lighted  on  the  occasion,  both  in 
London  and  Westminster.  She  returned  to  France  with  her 
daughter,  the  Princess  Henrietta,  2nd  January  1660-1.  She  ar- 
rived again  at  Greenwich  28th  July  1662,  and  continued  to  keep 
her  Court  in  England  until  July  1665,  when  she  embarked  for 
France,  "  and  took  so  many  things  with  her,"  says  Lord  Claren- 
don, "that  it  was  thought  by  many  that  she  did  not  intend  ever 
to  return  into  England.  Whatever  her  intentions  at  that  time 
were,  she  never  did  see  England  again,  though  she  lived  many 
years  after"  (Continuation  of  Clarendon's  Life,  p.  263).  She 
died  at  Colombe,  near  Paris,  in  August  1669;  and  her  son,  the 
Duke  of  York,  pronounces  this  tulogium  on  her :  "She  excelled 
in  all  the  good  qualities  of  a  good  wife,  of  a  good  mother,  and 
a  good  Christian"  (Macpherson's  Original  Papers,  vol.  i.). 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  107 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  on  the  contrary,  was 
familiar  with  everybody :  he  gave  in  to  their  customs, 
ate  of  everything,  and  easily  habituated  himself  to 
their  manner  of'  living,  which  he  looked  upon  as 
neither  vulgar  nor  barbarous ;  and  as  he  showed  a  nat- 
ural complaisance,  instead  of  the  impertinent  affecta- 
tion of  the  others,  all  the  nation  was  charmed  with 
a  man  who  agreeably  indemnified  them  for  what  they 
had  suffered  from  the  folly  of  the  former. 

He  first  of  all  made  his  court  to  the  King,  and 
was  of  all  his  parties  of  pleasure.8*  He  played  high, 
and  lost  but  seldom.  He  found  so  little  difference 
in  the  manners  and  conversation  of  those  with  whom 
he  chiefly  associated,  that  he  could  scarcely  believe 
he  was  out  of  his  own  country.  Everything  which 
could  agreeably  engage  a  man  of  his  disposition  pre- 
sented itself  to  his  different  humours,  as  if  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  Court  of  France  had  quitted  it  to  accom- 
pany him  in  his  exile. 

He  was  every  day  engaged  for  some  entertainment ; 
and  those  who  wished  to  regale  him  in  their  turn 
were  obliged  to  take  their  measures  in  time,  and  to 
invite  him  eight  or  ten  days  beforehand.  These  im- 
portunate civilities  became  tiresome  in  the  long  run; 
but  as  they  seemed  indispensable  to  a  man  of  his  dis- 
position, and  as  they  were  the  most  genteel  people  of 
the  Court  who  loaded  him  with  them,  he  submitted 
with  a  good  grace;  but  always  reserved  to  himself 
the  liberty  of  supping  at  home. 

His  supper  hour  depended  upon  play,  and  was  in- 
deed very  uncertain ;  but  his  supper  was  always  served 
up  with  the  greatest  elegance,  by  the  assistance  of 
one  or  two  servants,  who  were  excellent  caterers 

84 "  He  makes  one  in  all  the  parties  of  the  King,  and  has  his  say 
at  Madame  de  Castlemaine's." — Comminges  to  King  Louis,  Au- 
gust 1663  (Jusserand's  Ambassador  at  the  Court  of  Charles, 
P.  93). 


io8       THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

and  good  attendants,  but  understood  cheating  still 
better. 

The  company,  at  these  little  entertainments,  was 
not  numerqus,  but  select :  the  first  people  of  the  Court 
were  commonly  of  the  party;  but  the  man,  who  of 
all  others  suited  him  best  on  these  occasions,  never 
failed  to  attend:  that  was  the  celebrated  Saint-Evre- 
mond,  who  with  great  exactness,  but  too  great  free- 
dom, had  written  the  history  of  the  treaty  of  the 
Pyrenees :  an  exile  like  himself,  though  for  very  differ- 
ent reasons. 

Happily  for  them  both,  fortune  had,  some  time 
before  the  arrival  of  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont, 
brought  Saint-Evremond*5  to  England,  after  he  had 
had  leisure  to  repent  in  Holland  of  the  beauties  of 
his  famous  satire. 

88  Charles  de  St.  Denis,  Seigneur  de  Saint-Evremond,  was  born 
at  St.  Denis  le  Guast,  in  Lower  Normandy,  on  the  1st  of  April 
1613.  He  was  educated  at  Paris,  with  a  view  to  the  profession 
of  the  law;  but  he  early  quitted  that  pursuit,  and  went  into  the 
army,  where  he  signalised  himself  on  several  occasions.  At  the 
time  of  the  Pyrenean  treaty,  he  wrote  a  letter  censuring  the  con- 
duct of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  which  occasioned  his  being  banished 
France.  He  first  took  refuge  in  Holland ;  but  in  1662  he  removed 
into  England,  where  he  continued,  with  a  short  interval,  during 
the  rest  of  his  life.  In  1675  the  Duchess  of  Mazarin  came  to 
reside  in  England;  and  with  her  Saint-Evremond  passed  much 
of  his  time.  He  preserved  his  health  and  cheerfulness  to  a  very 
great  age,  and  died  pth  of  September  1703,  and  was  buried  in 
Westminster  Abbey.  His  biographer,  Monsieur  Des  Maizeaux, 
'describes  him  thus :  "  M.  de  Saint-Evremond  had  blue,  lively,  and 
sparkling  eyes,  a  large  forehead,  thick  eyebrows,  a  handsome 
mouth,  and  a  sneering  physiognomy.  Twenty  years  before  his 
death  a  wen  grew  between  his  eyebrows,  which  in  time  increased 
to  a  considerable  bigness.  He  once  designed  to  have  it  cut  off, 
but  as  it  was  no  ways  troublesome  to  him,  and  he  little  regarded 
that  kind  of  deformity,  Dr.  Le  Fevre  advised  him  to  let  it  alone, 
lest  such  an  operation  should  be  attended  with  dangerous  symp- 
toms in  a  man  of  his  age.  He  would  often  make  merry  with 
himself  on  account  of  his  wen,  his  great  leather  cap,  and  grey 
hair,  which  he  chose  to  wear  rather  than  a  periwig."  The 
philosopher's  character,  as  drawn  by  himself,  is  to  be  found  m 
a  letter  to  Gramont  in  Saint-Evremond's  Works. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  109 

The  Chevalier  was  from  that  time  his  hero:  they 
had  each  of  them  attained  to  all  the  advantages  which 
a  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  the  society  of  people  of 
fashion,  could  add  to  the  improvement  of  good  natural 
talents.  Saint-Evremond,  less  engaged  in  frivolous 
pursuits,  frequently  gave  little  lectures  to  the  Chev- 
alier, and  by  making  observations  upon  the  past,  en- 
deavoured to  set  him  right  for  the  present,  or  to 
instruct  him  for  the  future.  "You  are  now,"  said  he, 
"in  the  most  agreeable  way  of  life  a  man  of  your 
temper  could  wish  for :  you  are  the  delight  of  a  youth- 
ful, sprightly,  and  gallant  court:  the  King  has  never 
a  party  of  pleasure  to  which  you  are  not  admitted. 
You  play  from  morning  to  night,  or,  to  speak  more 
properly,  from  night  to  morning,  without  knowing 
what  it  is  to  lose.  Far  from  losing  the  money  yju 
brought  hither,  as  you  have  done  in  other  places,  you 
have  doubled  it,  trebled  it,  multiplied  it  almost  beyond 
your  wishes,  notwithstanding  the  exorbitant  expenses 
you  are  imperceptibly  led  into.  This,  without  doubt, 
is  the  most  desirable  situation  in  the  world :  stop  here, 
Chevalier,  and  do  not  ruin  your  affairs  by  returning 
to  your  old  sins.  Avoid  love,  by  pursuing  other  pleas- 
ures :  love  has  never  been  favourable  to  you.  You  are 
sensible  how  much  gallantry  has  cost  you:  every 
person  here  is  not  so  well  acquainted  with  that  matter 
as  yourself.  Play  boldly:  entertain  the  Court  with 
your  wit:  divert  the  King  by  your  ingenious  and 
entertaining  stories;  but  avoid  all  engagements  which 
can  deprive  you  of  this  merit,  and  make  you  forget 
you  are  a  stranger  and  an  exile  in  this  delightful 
country. 

"Fortune  may  grow  weary  of  befriending  you  at 
play.  What  would  have  become  of  you  if  your  last 
misfortune  had  happened  to  you  when  your  money 
had  been  at  as  low  an  ebb  as  I  have  known  it?  At- 


i  io       THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

tend  carefully  then  to  this  necessary  deity,  and  re- 
nounce the  other.  You  will  be  missed  at  the  Court 
of  France  before  you  grow  weary  of  this;  but  be 
that  as  it  may,  lay  up  a  good  store  of  money :  when  a 
man  is  rich  he  consoles  himself  for  his  banishment. 
I  know  you  well,  my  dear  Chevalier:  if  you  take  it 
into  your  head  to  seduce  a  lady,  or  to  supplant  a  lover, 
your  gains  at  play  will  by  no  means  suffice  for  pres- 
ents and  for  bribes:  no,  let  play  be  as  productive  to 
you  as  it  can  be,  you  will  never  gain  so  much  by  it  as 
you  will  lose  by  love,  if  you  yield  to  it. 

"You  are  in  possession  of  a  thousand  splendid 
qualifications  which  distinguish  you  here:  generous, 
benevolent,  elegant,  and  polite ;  and  for  your  engaging 
wit,  inimitable.  Upon  a  strict  examination,  perhaps, 
all  this  would  not  be  found  literally  true;  but  these 
are  brilliant  marks;  and  since  it  is  granted  that  you 
possess  them,  do  not  show  yourself  here  in  any  other 
light:  for,  in  love,  if  your  manner  of  paying  your 
addresses  can  be  so  denominated,  you  do  not  in  the 
least  resemble  the  picture  I  have  just  now  drawn." 

"My  little  philosophical  monitor,"  said  the  Chev- 
alier de  Gramont,  "you  talk  here  as  if  you  were  the 
Cato  of  Normandy."  "Do  I  say  anything  untrue?" 
replied  Saint-Evremond :  "is  it  not  a  fact,  that  as 
soon  as  a  woman  pleases  you,  your  first  care  is  to  find 
out  whether  she  has  any  other  lover,  and  your  second 
how  to  plague  her;  for  the  gaining  her  affection  is 
the  last  thing  in  your  thoughts.  You  seldom  engage 
in  intrigues,  but  to  disturb  the  happiness  of  others :  a 
mistress  who  had  no  lovers  would  have  no  charms  for 
you,  and  if  she  had,  she  would  be  invaluable.  Do  not 
all  the  places  through  which  you  have  passed  furnish 
me  with  a  thousand  examples?  Shall  I  mention  your 
coup  d'essai  at  Turin?  the  trick  you  played  at  Fon- 
tainebleau,  where  you  robbed  the  Princess  Palatine's 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  in 

courier  upon  the  highway?  And  for  what  purpose 
was  this  fine  exploit,  but  to  put  you  in  possession 
of  some  proofs  of  her  affection  for  another,  in  order 
to  give  her  uneasiness  and  confusion  by  reproaches 
and  menaces,  which  you  had  no  right  to  use? 

"Who  but  yourself  ever  took  it  into  his  head  to 
place  himself  in  ambush  upon  the  stairs,  to  disturb  a 
man  in  an  intrigue,  and  to  pull  him  back  by  the  leg 
when  he  was  half  way  up  to  his  mistress's  chamber? 
Yet  did  not  you  use  your  friend,  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, in  this  manner,  when  he  was  stealing  at  night 

to ,  although  you  were  not  in  the  least  his  rival  ? 

How  many  spies  did  not  you  send  out  after 
D'Olonne  ?M  How  many  tricks,  frauds,  and  persecu- 
tions did  you  not  practise  for  the  Countess  de  Fiesque, 
who  perhaps  might  have  been  constant  to  you,  if  you 
had  not  yourself  forced  her  to  be  otherwise?  But,  to 
conclude,  for  the  enumeration  of  your  iniquities  would 
be  endless,  give  me  leave  to  ask  you  how  you  came 
here?  Are  not  we  obliged  to  that  same  evil  genius 
of  yours,  which  rashly  inspired  you  to  intermeddle 
even  in  the  gallantries  of  your  prince?  Show  some 
discretion  then  on  this  point  here,  I  beseech  you;  all 
the  beauties  of  the  Court  are  already  engaged;  and 
however  docile  the  English  may  be  with  respect  to 
their  wives,  they  can  by  no  means  bear  the  incon- 
stancy of  their  mistresses,  nor  patiently  suffer  the 
advantages  of  a  rival:  suffer  them  therefore  to  re- 
main in  tranquillity,  and  do  not  gain  their  ill-will  for 
no  purpose. 

88  Mademoiselle  de  la  Loupe,  who  is  m'entioned  in  De  Retz's 
Memoirs,  vol.  iii.  p.  95.  She  married  the  Count  d'Olonne,  and 
became  famous  for  her  gallantries.  Her  maiden  name  was 
Catherine  Henrietta  d'Angennes,  and  she  was  daughter  to  Charles 
d'Angennes,  Lord  of  la  Loupe,  Baron  d'Amberville,  by  Mary  du 
Raynier.  There  is  a  long  character  of  her  by  Saint-Evremond, 
in  his  works,  vol.  i.  p.  17;  vol.  ii.  p.  24.  See  also  Histoire 
Amoureuse  des  Gaules. 


ii2        THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

"You  certainly  will  meet  with  no  success  with  such 
as  are  unmarried :  honourable  views,  and  good  landed 
property,  are  required  here;  and  you  possess  as  much" 
of  the  one  as  the  other.  Every  country  has  its  cus- 
toms: in  Holland,  unmarried  ladies  are  of  easy  ac- 
cess, and  of  tender  dispositions;  but  as  soon  as  they 
are  married,  they  become  like  so  many  Lucretias:  in 
France,  the  women  are  great  coquettes  before  mar- 
riage, and  still  more  so  afterwards;  but  here  it  is  a 
miracle  if  a  young  lady  yields  to  any  proposal  but 
that  of  matrimony:  and  I  do  not  believe  you  yet  so 
destitute  of  grace  as  to  think  of  that." 

Such*  were  Saint- Evremond's  lectures;  but  they 
were  all  to  no  purpose:  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
only  attended  to  them  for  his  amusement ;  and  though 
he  was  sensible  of  the  truth  they  contained,  he  paid 
little  regard  to  them:  in  fact,  being  weary  of  the 
favours  of  fortune,  he  had  just  resolved  to  pursue 
those  of  love. 

Mrs.  Middleton*8  was  the  first  whom  he  attacked: 
she  was  one  of  the  handsomest  women  in  town,  though 
then  little  known  at  Court:  so  much  of  the  coquette 

"Should  be  little  (Vizetelly's  translation). 

88  Mrs.  Middleton,  n£e  Jane  Needham,  was  the  daughter  of  Sir 
Robert  Needham  and  his  second  wife  Jane,  the  widow  of  Mr. 
Worfield.  She  was  born  at  Lambeth,  where  her  father  resided, 
and  baptized  23rd  January  1645-6.  The  great  beauty  married, 
i8th  June  1660  (at  Lambeth),  Charles  Middleton,  Esq.  (born 
1635),  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Middleton,  Kt,  of  Chirk  Castle,  Den- 
bighshire. The  old  mansion,  Plas  Ntwydd,  was  rebuilt  by  Mr. 
Middleton,  whose  arms  are  still  to  be  seen  over  the  porch.  There 
were  two  daughters  by  this  marriage:  Jane,  baptized  2ist  De- 
cember 1661,  and  Althamia.  The  family  resided  for  a  time, 
1668-9,  in  Charles  Street,  St.  Martin's  in  the  Fields :  the  site  of 
the  house  is  now  occupied  by  part  of  Regent  Street.  Mrs.  Mid- 
dleton for  some  years  received  a  pension  of  £500  from  the  Privy 
Purse,  and  died  in  1692  and  was  buried  in  Lambeth  Church  or 
Churchyard,  but  no  stone  records  her  interment. 

Both  Evelyn  and  the  French  Ambassador  Courtin  describe 
Mrs.  Middleton  as  an  incomparable  beauty.  The  latter  says  ^(23rd 
November  1676)  :  "  I  still  hold  to  the  opinion  that  she's  the 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  113 

as  to  discourage  no  one;  and  so  great  was  her  desire 
of  appearing  magnificently,  that  she  was  ambitious  to 
vie  with  those  of  the  greatest  fortunes,  though  unable 
to  support  the  expense.  All  this  suited  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont;  therefore,  without  trifling  away  his  time 
in  useless  ceremonies,  he  applied  to  her  porter  for 
admittance,  and  chose  one  of  her  lovers  for  his 
confidant. 

This  lover,  who  was  not  deficient  in  wit,  was  at 
that  time  a  Mr.  Jones,  afterwards  Earl  of  Ranelagh.8' 
What  engaged  him  to  serve  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
was  to  traverse  the  designs  of  a  most  dangerous  rival, 
and  to  relieve  himself  from  an  expense  which  began 
to  lie  too  heavy  upon  him.  In  both  respects  the 
Chevalier  answered  his  purpose. 

Immediately  spies  were  placed,  letters  and  presents 
flew  about :  he  was  received  as  well  as  he  could  wish : 

sweetest  woman  I  ever  came  across  in  any  foreign  country. 
She's  beautiful,  has  the  air  of  high  breeding,  is  full  of  talent, 
and  yet  modest  and  unassuming."  It  appears  from  the  French 
despatches  (Barillon  to  Pomponne,  25th  July  1678),  that  "to 
outdo  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  Mrs.  Middleton  and  Lady 
Harvey  trust  to  get  the  King  to  honour  Mrs.  Middleton's  daugh- 
ter with  his  attentions."  The  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  however, 
caused  the  King's  cabinet  to  be  inaccessible,  for  the  mother  took 
her  daughter  there  "  intent  on  pleasing  His  Majesty  " !  (Louise 
de  Keroualle,  p.  202).  This  was  possibly  Jane,  mentioned  above, 
who  married  Charles  May,  Esq.,  of  Frant,  Suss'ex,  only  son  of 
Sir  Algernon  May,  Kt,  of  Hampton,  Middlesex.  She  was  left  a 
widow  in  1715,  and  died  in  1740  and  was  buried  at  Hampton 
Church. 

(The  above  is  mainly  extracted  from  Steinman's  Althorp 
Memoirs.) 

38  Richard,  first  Earl  of  Ranelagh,  was  member  of  the  English 
House  of  Commons,  and  Vice  Treasurer  of  Ireland  1674.  He 
held  several  offices  und'er  King  William  and  Queen  Anne,  and 
died  5th  January  1711.  Bishop  Burnet  says:  "Lord  Ranelagh  was 
a  young  man  of  great  parts,  and  as  great  vices :  he  had  a  pleas- 
antness in  his  conversation  that  took  much  with  the  King;  and 
had  a  great  dexterity  in  business"  (History  of  his  Own  Time, 
vol.  i.  p.  373).  His  daughter  Elizabeth  became  the  King's  mis- 
tress in  1679  (vide  Reresby's  Memoirs'). 


114       THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

he  was  permitted  to  ogle:  he  was  even  ogled  again: 
but  this  was  all :  he  found  that  the  fair  one  was  very 
willing  to  accept,  but  was  tardy  in  making  returns." 
This  induced  him,  without  giving  up  his  pretensions 
to  her,  to  seek  his  fortune  elsewhere. 

Among  the  Queen's  maids  of  honour  there  was  one 
called  Warmester:  she  was  a  beauty  very  different 
from  the  other.  Mrs.  Middleton  was  well  made,  fair, 
and  delicate;  but  had  in  her  behaviour  and  discourse 
something  precise  and  affected.  The  indolent,  lan- 
guishing airs  she  gave  herself  did  not  please  every- 
body :  people  grew  weary  of  those  sentiments  of  deli- 
cacy, which  she  endeavoured  to  explain  without  un- 
derstanding them  herself,  and  instead  of  entertaining 
she  became  tiresome.  In  these  attempts  she  gave 
herself  so  much  trouble,  that  she  made  the  company 
uneasy,  and  her  ambition  to  pass  for  a  wit  only  estab- 
lished her  the  reputation  of  being  wearisome,  which 
lasted  much  longer  than  her  beauty. 

Miss  Warmester"  was  brown41:  she  had  no  shape 

40  The  French  Ambassador,  Courtin,  gives  another  story :  "  Mrs. 
Middleton  is  not  at  all  mercenary ;  she  once  refused  a  purse  con- 
taining  fifteen   hundred  golden   angels   which   Gramont   offered 
her"  Tsee  Forneron's  Louise  de  Keroualle,  p.  156). 

41  Miss  Warmester,  or  Warmestry,  is  referred  to  in  Gramont's 
Memoirs  under  her  real  name,  and  not,  as  the  previous  annotators 
have  it,  under  an  assumed   one.     Similar  circumstances  in  the 
career  of  the  maid  of  honour  Mary  Kirke  led  the  Earl  of  Arran 
to  suppose  that  Warmester  must  have  been   a  fictitious  name ; 
but  such  was  not  the  case.     This  lady  is  referred  to  in  a  letter 
from  Lord  Cornbury  to  the  Duchess  of  Bedford  (loth  June  1662) 
under  her  correct  name,  as  maid  of  honour  to  Queen  Catherine. 
Mary  Kirke  was  maid  of  honour  to  the  Duchess  of  York,  but 
she  did  not  resign  her  position  until  1675,  six  years  after  Gra- 
mont's departure  from  England;  whereas  the  Miss  Warmester 
eoisode    took    place    during    his    sojourn    at    the    Court.      The 
Warmestrys  settled  in  Worcester  prior  to  the  reign  of  Edward 
VI.,  from  which  the  members  were  registrars  of  the  diocese,  and 
the  name  is  still  retained  in  a  narrow  street  leading  from  the 
Cathedral  to  the  river  Severn.    The  parentage  of  the  lady  of  the 
Memoirs  is  not  known,  but  it  is  not  unlikely  she  was  the  daugh- 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  115 

at  all,  and  still  less  air;  but  she  had  a  very  lively 
complexion,  very  sparkling  eyes,  tempting  looks, 
which  spared  nothing  that  might  engage  a  lover, 
and  promised  everything  which  could  preserve  him. 
In  the  end,  it  very  plainly  appeared  that  her  con- 
sent went  along  with  her  eyes  to  the  last  degree  of 
indiscretion. 

It  was  between  these  two  goddesses  that  the  inclina- 
tions of  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  stood  wavering, 
and  between  whom  his  presents  were  divided.  Per- 
fumed gloves,  pocket  looking-glasses,  elegant  boxes, 
apricot  paste,  essences,  and  other  small  wares  of  love, 
arrived  every  week  from  Paris,  with  some  new  suit 
for  himself:  but,  with  regard  to  more  solid  presents, 
such  as  ear-rings,  diamonds,  brilliants,  and  bright 
guineas,  all  these  were  to  be  met  with  of  the 
best  sort  in  London,  and  the  ladies  were  as  well 
pleased  with  them  as  if  they  had  been  brought  from 
abroad. 

ter  of  Dr.  Thomas  Warmestry,  Vicar  of  Bromsgrove  and  Dean  of 
Worcester,  a  staunch  royalist  (b.  1610),  who  had  lands  at  Pax- 
ford,  County  Worcester,  lived  prior  to  the  Restoration  at  Chelsea, 
and  was  granted  the  mastership  of  the  Savoy  in  June  1660.  He 
died  30th  October  1665,  and  was  buried  in  the  Cathedral  of  Wor- 
cester (see  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biography,  vol.  lix.  p.  389,  also  Notes 
and  Queries,  Series  i.  vol.  viii.  p.  461,  and  the  M.S.  additions  of 
Sir  William  Musgrave  in  a  copy  of  the  jGramont  Memoirs  in  the 
British  Museum). 

Mary  Kirke  (the  daughter  of  George  Kirke,  Groom  of  the 
Bedchamber  to  Charles  II.  and  Keeper  of  Whitehall  Palace,  and 
sister  to  Colonel  Percy  Kirke  of  execrable  fame)  is  mentioned 
in  the  Belvoir  MSS.  as  being  a  mistress  of  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth  (vide  King  Monmouth,  p.  47)  ;  in  any  case  she  ultimately 
married  Sir  Thomas  Vernon,  who  became  a  widower  in  June  1676, 
and  who  has  hitherto  been  confused  with  Killigrew's  cousin,  who 
came  most  opportunely  to  the  rescue  of  Miss  Warmester.  Lady 
Vernon  survived  her  husband  nearly  thirty  years,  and  died  in 
great  poverty  at  Greenwich,  where  she  was  buried.  Her  son,  Sir 
Richard,  was  the  last  baronet,  and  the  family  became  extinct  in 
1752. 

43 Dark,  not  brown  (Vizetelly's  translation). 


n6       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

Miss  Stewart's43  beauty  began  at  this  time  to  be 
celebrated.  The  Countess  of  Castlemaine  perceived 
that  the  King  paid  attention  to  her;  but,  instead  of 
being  alarmed  at  it,  she  favoured,  as  far  as  she  was 
able,  this  new  inclination,  whether  from  an  indiscre- 
tion common  to  all  those  who  think  themselves  supe- 
rior to  the  rest  of  mankind,  or  whether  she  designed, 
by  this  pastime,  to  divert  the  King's  attention  from 
the  commerce  which  she  held  with  Jermyn.  She  was 
not  satisfied  with  appearing  without  any  degree  of 
uneasiness  at  a  preference  which  all  the  Court  began 

43  Frances  Theresa  Stewart,  or  Stuart,  afterwards  Duchess  of 
Richmond  and  Lennox,  daughter  of  Walter  Stuart,  third  son  of 
Walter,  Lord  Blantyre,  which  family  claimed  to  be  related  to  the 
Royal  House  of  Stuart.  Born  about  the  year  1647,  and  educated 
in  France,  she  was  in  the  train  of  Queen  Henrietta  when  the 
Dowager  came  to  England  two  years  after  the  Restoration, 
shortly  after  which  she  became  maid  of  honour  to  Queen  Cather- 
ine of  Braganza.  Charles  II.,  as  had  King  Louis  before  him, 
soon  became  enslaved  by  her  beauty,  which  resulted  in  a  rivalry 
between  her  and  Lady  Castlemaine ;  and  had  the  Queen's  illness 
proved  fatal,  there  is  little  doubt  the  King  would  have  married 
her,  for  in  vain  he  had  solicited  her  favours. 

There  are  frequent  allusions  to  her  by  Pepys,  who  describes 
her  as  the  greatest  beauty  at  Court,  with  her  "  sweet  eye,  little 
Roman  nose,  and  excellent  taille."  The  well-known  Hampton 
Court  portrait  by  Lely  is  probably  referred  to  in  the  following 
entry  in  the  Diary  of  I5th  July  1664: — "To  Whitehall,  where — 
in  one  of  the  Galleries — there  comes  out  of  the  Chayre-room  Mrs. 
Stewart  in  a  most  lovely  form,  with  her  hair  all  about  her  eares, 
having  her  picture  taken  there.  There  was  the  King  and  twenty 
more,  I  think,  standing  by  all  the  while,  and  a  lovely  creature  she, 
in  this  dress,  seemed  to  be."  On  26th  August  of  the  same  year 
Pepys  was  taken  to  Huysman's  studio,  where  he  saw  his  portrait 
of  Frances  Stewart  "  in  a  buff  doublet  like  a  soldier."  This 
painting  is  now  in  Buckingham  Palace.  John  Roettier,  the  medal- 
list, depicted  La  Belle  Stewart's  profile  upon  the  reverse  of  a  thin 
gold  plate  now  in  the  British  Museum.  Referring  to  this,  Pepys 
says  (25th  February  1666-7)  : — "  At  my  goldsmith's  did  observe 
the  King's  new  medall  where,  in  little,  there  is  Mrs.  Steward's 
face  as  well  done  as  ever  I  saw  anything  in  my  whole  life,  I 
think:  and  a  pretty  thing  it  is,  that  he  should  choose  her  face 
to  represent  Britannia  by."  She  also  sat  for  the  Britannia  of 
several  medals  struck  in  the  year  1667,  the  original  of  the  Britan- 
nia of  our  copper  coinage. 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  117 

to  remark:  she  even  affected  to  make  Miss  Stewart 
her  favourite,  invited  her  to  all  the  entertainments 
she  made  for  the  King;  and  in  confidence  of  her  own 
charms,  with  the  greatest  indiscretion  she  often  kept 
her  to  sleep. 

The  King,  who  seldom  neglected  to  visit  the 
Countess  before  she  rose,  seldom  failed  likewise  to 
find  Miss  Stewart  in  bed  with  her.  The  most  in- 
different objects  have  charms  in  a  new  attachment : 
however,  the  imprudent  Countess  was  not  jealous  of 
this  rival's  appearing  with  her  in  such  a  situation, 
being  confident,  that  whenever  she  thought  fit,  she 
could  triumph  over  all  the  advantages  which  these 
opportunities  could  afford  Miss  Stewart.  But  she  was 
quite  mistaken. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  took  notice  of  this  con- 
duct, without  being  able  to  comprehend  it ;  but,  as  ha 
was  attentive  to  the  inclinations  of  the  King,  he  began 
to  make  his  court  to  him  by  enhancing  the  merit  of 
this  new  mistress." 

Her  figure  was  more  showy  than  engaging:  it 
was  hardly  possible  for  a  woman  to  have  less  wit, 
or  more  beauty.  All  her  features  were  fine  and 
regular ;  but  her  shape  was  not  good :  yet  she  was 
slender,  straight  enough,  and  taller  than  the  generality 

44  Between  February  and  June  1663  several  rumours  were  cur- 
rent that  Frances  Stewart  had  become  the  King's  mistress  (vide 
Pepy's  Diary,  8th  and  I7th  February,  i8th  May,  and  4th  June). 
The  Marquis  de  Ruvigny,  writing  to  Louis  XIV.  on  25th  June, 
hints  at  her  sins  by  saying  that  she  did  not  take  the  communion 
at  Whitsuntide,  though,  he  adds,  she  is  "  one  of  the  most  modest 
girls  to  be  seen."  By  this  time  Lady  Castlemaine  saw  the  danger 
of  entertaining  her  rival.  "  There  was  a  great  row  the  other  day 
among  the  ladies,"  says  the  Ambassador  Comminges  in  a  letter 
to  King  Louis  (25th  June  1663)  ;  "it  was  carried  so  far  that  the 
King  threatened  the  lady  at  whose  apartments  he  sups  every 
evening  that  he  would  never  set  foot  there  again  if  he  did  not 
find  the  Demoiselle  with  her,  and  for  this  cause  the  lady  is  never 
without  her"  (see  Jusserand's  French  Ambassador  at  the  Court 
of  Charles  II.  p.  90). 


n8       THE    COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

of  women :  she  was  very  graceful,  danced  well,48  and 
spoke  French  better  than  her  mother  tongue :  she  was 
well  bred,  and  possessed  in  perfection  that  air  of  dress 
which  is  so  much  admired,  and  which  cannot  be 
attained,  unless  it  be  taken  when  young,  in  France. 
While  her  charms  were  gaining  ground  in  the  King's 
heart,  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine  amused  herself  in 
the  gratification  of  all  her  caprices.** 

Mrs.  Hyde47  was  one  of  the  first  of  the  beauties 
who  were  prejudiced  with  a  blind  prepossession  in 
favour  of  Jermyn :  she  had  just  married  a  man  whom 
she  loved:  by  this  marriage  she  became  sister-in-law 
to  the  Duchess,  brilliant  by  her  own  native  lustre, 
and  full  of  pleasantry  and  wit.  However,  she  was  of 
opinion,  that  so  long  as  she  was  not  talked  of  on 
account  of  Jermyn,  all  her  other  advantages  would 
avail  nothing  for  her  glory :  it  was,  therefore,  to  re- 
ceive this  finishing  stroke  that  she  resolved  to  throw 
herself  into  his  arms. 

She  was  of  middle  size,  had  a  skin  of  a  dazzling 
whiteness,  fine  hands,  and  a  foot  surprisingly  beauti- 
ful, even  in  England:  long  custom  had  given  such  a 
languishing  tenderness  to  her  looks,  that  she  never 
opened  her  eyes  but  like  a  Chinese;  and,  when  she 
ogled,  one  would  have  thought  she  was  doing  some- 
thing else. 

Jermyn  accepted  of  her  at  first;  but,  being  soon 
puzzled  what  to  do  with  her,  he  thought  it  best  to 

**  "  Mighty  finely,"  according  to  Pepys,  who,  on  the  occasion  of 
a  Court  ball,  thought  her  "the  beautifullest  creature"  he  'ever 
saw  (see  Diary,  15th  November  1666). 

46  This  is  corroborated  by  Pepys  (see  Diary,  8th  February 
1662-3). 

^Theodosia,  daughter  of  Arthur,  Lord  Capel,  first  wife  of 
Henry  Hyde,  Lord  Cornbury,  and  sister-in-law  of  the  Duchess 
of  York. 

She  must  not  be  confused  with  the  wife  of  Laurence  Hyde, 
afterwards  Earl  of  Rochester. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  119 

sacrifice  her  to  Lady  Castlemaine.  The  sacrifice  was 
far  from  being  displeasing  to  her;  it  was  much  to 
her  glory  to  have  carried  off  Jermyn  from  so  many 
competitors;  but  this  was  of  no  consequence  in  the 
end. 

Jacob  Hall,  the  famous  rope-dancer,48  was  at  that 
time  in  vogue  in  London;  his  strength  and  agility 
charmed  in  public,  even  to  a  wish  to  know  what  he 
was  in  private ;  for  he  appeared,  in  his  tumbling  dress, 
to  be  quite  of  a  different  make,  and  to  have  limbs 
very  different  from  the  fortunate  Jermyn.  The  tum- 
bler did  not  deceive  Lady  Castlemaine's  expectations, 
if  report  may  be  believed,  and  as  was  intimated  in 
many  a  song,  much  more  to  the  honour  of  the 
rope-dancer  than  of  the  Countess;  but  she  despised 
all  these  rumours,  and  only  appeared  still  more 
handsome. 

While  satire  thus  found  employment  at  her  cost, 
there  were  continual  contests  for  the  favours  of  an- 
other beauty,  who  was  not  much  more  niggardly  in 
that  way  than  herself;  this  was  the  Countess  .of 
Shrewsbury. 

48  The  combination  of  Hercules  and  Adonis  in  the  person  of 
Jacob  Hall  made  him  very  popular  with  the  fair  sex.  He  attained 
his  greatest  distinction  in  1668  when  he  became  a  regular  visitor 
to  Lady  Castlemaine's  house,  and  is  said  to  have  received  a  salary 
from  her.  Hall's  earliest  entertainment  was  in  a  booth  at  Smith- 
field,  after  which  he  set  up  a  stage  for  his  performances  at  Char- 
ing Cross,  and  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  His  exhibition  included 
"  excellent  dancing  and  vaulting  on  the  ropes  with  variety  of 
rare  feats  of  activity  and  agility  of  body  upon  the  stage,  as  doing 
of  somersets  and  flip-flaps,  flying  over  thirty  rapiers,  and  over 
several  men's  heads,  and  also  flying  through  several  hoops."  He 
further  challenged  anybody  to  do  the  like  for  £20.  (See  Notes 
and  Queries,  Second  Series,  vii.  p.  62.)  Pepys,  who  saw  him  in 
August  and  September  1668,  at  Southwark  Fair,  describes  him  as 
a  "  mighty  strong  man."  In  an  interview  with  the  diarist,  the 
athlete  declared  that  though  he  had  had  many  falls  he  had  never 
broken  a  limb  (21  st  September).  See  also  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biog- 
raphy, vol.  xxiv.  p.  67. 


120       THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

The  Earl  of  Arran/9  who  had  been  one  of  her  first 
admirers,  was  not  one  of  the  last  to  desert  her;  this 
beauty,  less  famous  for  her  conquests  than  for  the  mis- 
fortunes she  occasioned,  placed  her  greatest  merits  in 
being  more  capricious  than  any  other.  As  no  person 
could  boast  of  being  the  only  one  in  her  favour,  so  no 
person  could  complain  of  having  been  ill  received. 

Jermyn  was  displeased  that  she  had  made  no  ad- 
vances to  him,  without  considering  that  she  had  no 
leisure  for  it ;  his  pride  was  offended ;  but  the  attempt 
which  he  made  to  take  her  from  the  rest  of  her  lovers 
was  very  ill-advised. 

Thomas  Howard,  brother  to  the  Earl  of  Carlisle,"0 
was  one  of  them :  there  was  not  a  braver  or  finer  man 
in  England;  and  though  he  was  of  a  modest  de- 
meanour, and  his  manners  appeared  gentle  and  pacific, 
no  person  was  more  spirited  nor  more  passionate. 
Lady  Shrewsbury,  inconsiderately  returning  the  first 
ogles  of  the  invincible  Jermyn,  did  not  at  all  make 
herself  more  agreeable  to  Howard;  that,  however, 
she  paid  little  attention  to;  yet,  as  she  designed  to  keep 
fair  with  him,  she  consented  to  accept  an  entertain- 
ment which  he  had  often  proposed,  and  which  she 
durst  no  longer  refuse.  A  place  of  amusement  called 
Spring  Garden51  was  fixed  upon  for  the  scene  of  this 
entertainment. 

*  Richard  Butler,  second  son  of  James,  Duke  of  Ormonde,  b, 
1639,  ob.  1686. 

10  Captain  Thomas  Howard,  fourth  son  of  Sir  William  Howard, 
and  the  third  husband  of  Mary  Villiers,  daughter  of  the  first 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  whose  second  husband  was  James  Lennox, 
third  Duke  of  Richmond. 

B  Spring  Garden,  the  scene  of  intrigue  in  many  comedies  of  this 
time,  derived  its  name  from  a  mechanical  spring  or  jet  of  water, 
a  practical  joke  so  contrived  that  a  passer-by  was  doused  as  in- 
advertently he  trod  upon  a  hidden  trap.  These  water  springs 
date  from  Elizabeth's  time :  an  example  existed  until  a  compara- 
tively recent  date  at  Chatsworth;  another  was  at  Enstone  in 
Oxfordshire. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  121 

As  soon  as  the  party  was  settled,  Jermyn  was  pri- 
vately informed  of  it.  Howard  had  a  company  in  the 
regiment  of  guards,  and  one  of  the  soldiers  of  his 
company  played  pretty  well  on  the  bagpipes.  This 
soldier  was,  therefore,  at  the  entertainment.  Jermyn 
was  at  the  garden,  as  by  chance,  and,  puffed  up  with 
his  former  successes,  he  trusted  to  his  victorious  air 
for  accomplishing  this  last  enterprise;  he  no  sooner 
appeared  on  the  walks,  than  her  ladyship  showed  her- 
self upon  the  balcony. 

I  know  not  how  she  stood  affected  to  her  hero;  but 
Howard  did  not  fancy  him  much.  This  did  not  pre- 
vent his  coming  upstairs  upon  the  first  sign  she  made 

In  A  Character  of  England,  published  in  1659  and  attributed 
to  Evelyn,  is  the  following  description : — "  The  manner  is,  as  the 
company  returns  [from  Hyde  Park],  to  alight  at  the  Spring  Gar- 
den, so  called  in  order  to  the  Parke,  as  our  Thuilleries  is  to  the 
Course ;  the  inclosure  not  disagreeable,  for  the  solemness  of  the 
grove,  the  warbling  of  the  birds,  and  as  it  opens  into  the  spacious 
walks  of  St.  James's;  but  the  company  walk  in  it  at  such  a  rate, 
you  would  think  that  all  the  ladies  were  so  many  Atalantas  con- 
tending with  their  wooers;  but  as  fast  as  they  ran  they  stay 
there  so  long  as  if  they  wanted  not  time  to  finish  the  race;  for 
it  is  usual  here  to  find  some  of  the  young  company  till  midnight ; 
and  the  thickets  of  the  garden  seem  to  be  contrived  to  all  ad- 
vantages of  gallantry,  after  they  have  refreshed  with  the  colla- 
tion, which  is  here  seldom  omitted,  at  a  certain  cabaret  in  the 
middle  of  this  paradise,  where  the  forbidden  fruits  are  certain 
trifling  tarts,  neats'  tongues,  salacious  meats,  and  bad  Rhenish, 
for  which  the  gallants  pay  sauce,  as  indeed  they  do  at  all  such 
houses  throughout  England." 

In  1661  the  New  Spring  Gardens  at  Foxhall,  or  Vauxhall,  were 
set  out  with  lawns,  gravel  walks,  arbours,  and  hedges  of  goose- 
berry trees  and  roses,  and  were  the  forerunner  of  the  famous 
Vauxhall(  Gardens.  Pepys  makes  several  allusions  to  this  pleasure 
resort.  "  It  is  very  pleasant  and  cheap  going  thither,"  'says  the 
diarist ;  "  for  a  man  may  go  to  spend  what  he  will  or  nothing, 
all  as  one.  But  to  hear  the  nightingale  and  the  birds,  and  here 
fiddles  and  there  a  harp,  and  here  a  Jew's  trump,  and  here  laugh- 
ing and  there  fine  people  walking,  is  mighty  divertising"  (28th  May 
1667).  But  he  was  evidently  grieved  to  see  how  the  women  were 
molested,  and  "  how  rude  some  of  the  young  gallants  of  the  town 
are  become,  to  go  into  people's  arbors  where  there  are  not  men, 
and  almost  force  the  women." 


122       THE    COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

to  him ;  and  not  content  with  acting  the  petty  tyrant,  at 
an  entertainment  not  made  for  himself,  no  sooner  had 
he  gained  the  soft  looks  of  the  fair  one,  than  he  ex- 
hausted all  his  commonplace,  and  all  his  stock  of  low 
irony,  in  railing  at  the  entertainment,  and  ridiculing 
the  music. 

Howard  possessed  but  little  raillery,  and  still  less 
patience ;  three  times  was  the  banquet  on  the  point  of 
being  stained  with  blood;  but  three  times  did  he  sup- 
press his  natural  impetuosity,  in  order  to  satisfy  his 
resentment  elsewhere  with  greater  freedom. 

Jermyn,  without  paying  the  least  attention  to  his 
ill-humour,  pursued  his  point,  continued  talking  to 
Lady  Shrewsbury,  and  did  not  leave  her  until  the 
repast  was  ended. 

He  went  to  bed,  proud  of  this  triumph,  and  was 
awakened  next  morning  by  a  challenge.  He  took  for 
his  second  Giles  Rawlings,"  a  man  of  intrigue  and  a 
deep  player.  Howard  took  Dillon,8*  who  was  dexter- 
ous and  brave,  much  of  a  gentleman,  and,  unfortu- 
nately, an  intimate  friend  to  Rawlings. 

In  this  duel  fortune  did  not  side  with  the  votaries 
of  love:  poor  Rawlings  was  left  stone  dead;  and 
Jermyn,  having  received  three  wounds,  was  carried 
to  his  uncle's,  with  very  little  signs  of  life.64 

"Colonel  Giles  Rawlings,  gentleman  of  the  Privy  Purse  to 
James,  Duke  of  York.  According  to  Rugge's  Diurnal  he  used  to 
live  in  great  state,  with  six  horses  and  three  footmen  to  his 
coach. 

B  Colonel  Gary  Dillon,  youngest  son  of  Robert,  second  Earl  of 
Roscommon. 

"This  took  place  in  Pall  Mall  on  i8th  August  1662  (vide  Pepys, 
I  gth  August  1662).  A  more  detailed  account  appears  in  the 
Verney  papers,  2ist  August  1662.  "On  Monday  Tom  Howard, 
brother  to  the  Earl  of  Carlisle,  and  Mr.  Dillon,  brother  to  Lord 
Dillon,  accosted  H.  Germaine  [Jermyn]  and  Giles  Rawlins,  drew 

upon  them  before  door  coming  from  the  tennis  court,  and 

Tom  slew  Giles  dead  in  the  place,  and  after  that  fell  on  Harry 
and  wounded  him  in  three  or  four  places,  which  proved  but  slight 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  123 

While  the  report  of  this  event  engaged  the  courtiers 
according  to  their  several  interests,  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont  was  informed  by  Jones,  his  friend,  his  con- 
fidant, and  his  rival,  that  there  was  another  gentleman 
very  attentive  to  Mrs.  Middleton.  This  was  Mon- 
tagu,5* no  very  dangerous  rival  on  account  of  his  per- 
son, but  very  much  to  be  feared  for  his  assiduity,  the 
acuteness  of  his  wit,  and  for  some  other  talents  which 
are  of  importance,  when  a  man  is  once  permitted  to 
display  them. 

There  needed  not  half  so  much  to  bring  into  action 
all  the  Chevalier's  vivacity,  in  point  of  competition: 
vexation  awakened  in  him  whatever  expedients  the 
desire  of  revenge,  malice,  and  experience  could  sug- 
gest, for  troubling  the  designs  of  a  rival,  and  torment- 
ing a  mistress.  His  first  intention  was  to  return  her 
letters,  and  demand  his  presents,  before  he  began  to 
tease  her;  but,  rejecting  this  project,  as  too  weak  a 

hurts ;  which  done  Tom  said,  '  Now  we  have  done  justice,  let's  b« 
gone.'  And  having  their  horses  hard  by,  with  pistols  at  the  sad- 
dlebow, they  presently  fled,  and  'tis  thought  Howard  had  some 
hurt,  for  he  was  seen  to  bear  himself  up  on  his  pummell.  The 
quarrel  it's  said  was  between  Howard  and  Germaine  about  Lady 
Shrewsbury.  It  is  also  said  that  Howard  was  in  buff,  and  that 
he  cut  off  the  heels  of  his  boots,  and  so  came  fully  prepared 
and  took  the  other  unawares,  who  because  they  had  only  the 
usual  bodkins  desired  but  their  footmen's  swords,  but  had  them 
not;  and  yet  Rawlins  thrust  so  home  that  he  bent  his  sword  at 
the  hilt,  but  buff  or  other  armour  would  not  suffer  entrance. 
Dillon  fought  carelessly,  as  if  willing  neither  to  hurt  nor  be  hurt, 
it  being  none  of  his  quarrel."  By  Pepys's  account  it  was  Dillon 
who  had  protected  himself  against  sword  thrusts.  From  Rugge's 
Diurnal  we  learn  that  Howard  and  Dillon  both  fled,  "  but  after 
a  quarter  of  a  year  they  came  into  England  and  were  acquitted 
by  law." 

63  Ralph  Montagu,  second  son  of  Edward,  second  Lord  Montagu 
of  Boughton  (b.  1636,  ob.  1709),  created  Duke  of  Montagu  by 
Queen  Anne  in  1705.  In  1669  he  was  sent  as  Ambassador  Ex- 
traordinary to  France,  and  aided  Louis  XIV.'s  interests,  and 
afterwards  was  active  in  opposing  King  James  in  favour  of  Wil- 
liam III.  He  married  the  widowed  Countess  of  Northumberland, 
sister  of  Lady  Rachael  Russell. 


124       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

revenge  for  the  injustice  done  him,  he  was  upon 
the  point  of  conspiring  the  destruction  of  poor  Mrs. 
Middleton,  when,  by  accident,  he  met  with  Miss 
Hamilton.66 

From  this  moment  ended  all  his  resentment  against 
Mrs.  Middleton  and  all  his  attachment  to  Miss 
Warmester:  no  longer  was  he  inconstant;  no  longer 
were  his  wishes  fluctuating;  this  object  fixed  them  all; 
and,  of  all  his  former  habits,  none  remained,  except 
uneasiness  and  jealousy. 

Here  his  first  care  was  to  please;  but  he  very 
plainly  saw,,  that  to  succeed  he  must  act  quite  in 
a  different  manner  from  that  which  he  had  been 
accustomed  to. 

The  family  of  the  Hamiltons,  being  very  numerous, 
lived  in  a  large  and  commodious  house  near  the  Court ; 
the  Duke  of  Ormonde's  family  was  continually  with 
them;  and  here  persons  of  the  greatest  distinction  in 
London  constantly  met.  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
was  here  received  in  a  manner  agreeable  to  his  merit 
and  quality,  and  was  astonished  that  he  had  spent  so 
much  time  in  other  places ;  for,  after  having  made  this 
acquaintance,  he  was  desirous  of  no  other. 

M  The  Ambassador  Comminges,  who  handles  the  Chevalier  less 
leniently  than  Hamilton,  writes  to  King  Louis  (August  1663)  : — 
"He"  (Gramont)  "follows  his  usual  style  of  life.  He  sees  the 
ladies  at  the  lawful  hours,  and  a  little  also  at  the  forbidden  ones. 
...  He  continues  his  gallantries  as  is  his  wont — that  is,  making 
much  noise  and  little  progress."  With  regard  to  Mrs.  Middleton 
he  says :  "  He  has  just  managed  to  have  a  very  ridiculous  affair 
with  Madame  Middleton,  whose  maid  he  bribed,  but  the  maid  kept 
to  herself  both  the  money  and  the  love  declarations  of  the  Chev- 
alier. When  at  length  the  lady  heard  of  what  was  meant  for 
her,  as  it  was  not  conveyed,  it  seems,  with  all  the  eloquence 
Gramont  had  meant,  she  was  nothing  moved,  but  ordered  him  to 
keep  quiet  and  look  elsewhere.  Gramont  did  not  fail  to  take  her 
at  her  word,  and  he  is  now,  six  months  after  his  coming,  in  a 
fair  way  to  marriage  "  ( Jusserand's  Ambassador  at  the  Court  of 
Charles  II.  pp.  93-94)  • 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  125 

All  the  world  agreed  that  Miss  Hamilton"  was 
worthy  of  the  most  ardent  and  sincere  affection :  no- 
body could  boast  a  nobler  birth,  nothing  was  more 
charming  than  her  person. 

"Elizabeth,  sister  of  the  author  of  these  Memoirs,  and  daugh- 
ter of  Sir  George  Hamilton,  fourth  son  of  James,  the  first  Earl 
of  Abercorn,  by  Mary,  third  daughter  of  Thomas,  Viscount 
Thurles,  eldest  son  of  Walter,  eleventh  Earl  of  Ormonde,  and 
sister  to  James,  the  first  Duke  of  Ormonde.  She  married  Phili- 
bert,  Count  of  Gramont,  the  hero  of  these  Memoirs,  by  whom 
she  had  a  son,  born  in  1664  (who  probably  died  young),  and 
two  daughters,  Claude  Charlotte,  married  (1694)  to  Henry,  Earl 
of  Stafford,  and  Mary  Elizabeth,  who  became  Abbess  of  St. 
Marie  de  Poussay  in  Lorraine.  Dangeau  describes  her  as  "  a 
most  lively  wit,  the  most  extensive  information,  the  greatest 
dignity,  the  utmost  ease,  and  the  most  polished  elegance  at  Court 
(Dangeau's  Journal,  vol.  i.  p.  241).  The  Duke  of  Richmond,  the 
Earl  of  Arundel,  Jermyn  the  invincible,  the  Earl  of  Falmouth, 
John  Russell  (son  of  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  William  Russell 
(John's  nephew),  were  among  the  aspirants  to  the  hand  of  the 
beautiful  Elizabeth  Hamilton. 


CHAPTER    VII 

THE  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  never  satisfied  in  his 
amours,  was  fortunate  without  being  beloved,  and 
became  jealous  without  having  an  attachment. 

Mrs.  Middleton,  as  we  have  said,  was  going  to 
experience  what  methods  he  could  invent  to  torment, 
after  having  experienced  his  powers  of  pleasing. 

He  went  in  search  of  her  to  the  Queen's  drawing- 
room,  where  there  was  a  ball.  There  she  was;  but, 
fortunately  for  her,  Miss  Hamilton  was  there  likewise. 
It  had  so  happened,  that  of  all  the  beautiful  women  at 
Court,  this  was  the  lady  whom  he  had  least  seen,  and 
whom  he  had  heard  most  commended ;  this,  therefore, 
was  the  first  time  that  he  had  a  close  view  of  her,  and 
he  soon  found  that  he  had  seen  nothing  at  Court  before 
this  instant.  He  asked  her  some  questions,  to  which 
she  replied ;  as  long  as  she  was  dancing,  his  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  her;  and  from  this  time  he  no  longer 
resented  Mrs.  Middleton's  conduct.  Miss  Hamilton 
was  at  the  happy  age  when  the  charms  of  the  fair  sex 
begin  to  bloom ;  she  had  the  finest  shape,  the  loveliest 
neck,  and  most  beautiful  arms  in  the  world;  she  was 
majestic  and  graceful  in  all  her  movements;  and  she 
was  the  original  after  which  all  the  ladies  copied  in  their 
taste  and  air  of  dress.1  Her  forehead  was  open,  white, 
and  smooth;  her  hair  was  well  set,  and  fell  with  ease 
into  that  natural  order  which  it  is  so  difficult  to  imitate. 
Her  complexion  was  possessed  of  a  certain  freshness, 
not  to  be  equalled  by  borrowed  colours :  her  eyes  were 
1  And  arrangement  of  their  hair  (Vizetelly's  translation). 
126 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  127 

not  large,  but  they  were  lively,  and  capable  of  express- 
ing whatever  she  pleased  :  her  mouth  was  full  of  graces, 
and  her  contour  uncommonly  perfect:  nor  was  her 
nose,  which  was  small,  delicate,  and  turned  up,  the 
least  ornament  of  so  lovely  a  face.  In  fine,  her  air,  her 
carriage,  and  the  numberless  graces  dispersed  over  her 
whole  person,  made  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  not 
doubt  but  that  she  was  possessed  of  every  other  quali- 
fication. Her  mind  was  a  proper  companion  for  such 
a  form :  she  did  not  endeavour  to  shine  in  conversation 
by  those  sprightly  sallies  which  only  puzzle;  and  with 
still  greater  care  she  avoided  that  affected  solemnity  in 
her  discourse  which  produces  stupidity;  but  without 
any  eagerness  to  talk,  she  just  said  what  she  ought, 
and  no  more.  She  had  an  admirable  discernment  in 
distinguishing  between  solid  and  false  wit;  and  far 
from  making  an  ostentatious  display  of  her  abilities, 
she  was  reserved,  though  very  just  in  her  decisions. 
Her  sentiments  were  always  noble,  and  even  lofty  to 
the  highest  extent,  when  there  was  occasion ;  neverthe- 
less, she  was  less  prepossesed  with  her  own  merit  than 
is  usually  the  case  with  those  who  have  so  much. 
Formed  as  we  have  described,  she  could  not  fail  of 
commanding  love;  but  so  far  was  she  from  courting 
it,  that  she  was  scrupulously  nice  with  respect  to  those 
whose  merit  might  entitle  them  to  form  any  pretensions 
to  her. 

The  more  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  was  convinced 
of  these  truths,  the  more  did  he  endeavour  to  please 
and  engage  her  in  his  turn.  His  entertaining  wit,  his 
conversation,  lively,  easy,  and  always  distinguished  by 
novelty,  constantly  gained  him  attention;  but  he  was 
much  embarrassed  to  find  that  presents,  which  so  easily 
made  their  way  in  his  former  method  of  courtship, 
were  no  longer  proper  in  the  mode  which,  for  the 
future,  he  was  obliged  to  pursue. 


128       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

He  had  an  old  valet-de-chambre,  called  Termes,  a 
bold  thief,  and  a  still  more  impudent  liar:  he  used 
to  send  this  man  from  London  every  week,  on  the 
commissions  we  have  before  mentioned.  But  after 
the  disgrace  of  Mrs.  Middleton,  and  the  adven- 
ture of  Miss  Warmester,  Mr.  Termes  was  only  em- 
ployed in  bringing-  his  master's  clothes  from  Paris, 
and  he  did  not  always  acquit  himself  with  the 
greatest  fidelity  in  that  employment,  as  will  appear 
hereafter. 

The  Queen  was  a  woman  of  sense,  and  used  all  her 
endeavours  to  please  the  King,  by  that  kind,  obliging 
behaviour  which  her  affection  made  natural  to  her :  she 
was  particularly  attentive  in  promoting  every  sort  of 
pleasure  and  amusement,  especially  such  as  she  could 
be  present  at  herself. 

She  had  contrived,  for  this  purpose,  a  splendid 
masquerade,  where  those  whom  she  appointed  to  dance 
had  to  represent  different  nations.  She  allowed  some 
time  for  preparation,  during  which,  we  may  suppose, 
the  tailors,  the  mantua-makers,  and  embroiderers  were 
not  idle. 

Nor  were  the  beauties,  who  were  to  be  there,  less 
anxiously  employed;  however,  Miss  Hamilton  found 
time  enough  to  invent  two  or  three  little  tricks,  in  a 
conjuncture  so  favourable,  for  turning  into  ridicule 
the  vain  fools  of  the  Court.  There  were  two  who  were 
very  eminently  such:  the  one  was  Lady  Muskerry,* 

'Lady  Margaret  de  Burgh,  only  child  of  Ulick,  Marquis  of 
Clanricarde.  by  Lady  Anne  Compton,  daughter  of  William,  Earl 
of  Northampton.  She  was  three  times  married:  ist,  To  Charles, 
Viscount  Muskerry,  eldest  son  of  the  Earl  of  Clancarty,  and 
nephew  of  the  Duke  of  Ormonde,  who  lost  his  life  in  the  great 
sea-fight  with  the  Dutch,  3rd  June  1665.  2nd,  In  1676,  to  Robert 
Villiers,  third  Viscount  Purbeck,  who  was  killed  in  a  duel  in 
1684.  3rd,  To  Major-General  Robert,  better  known  as  Beau 
Fielding^  ' 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  129 

who  had  married  her  cousin-german ;  and  the  other  a 
maid  of  honour  to  the  Duchess,  called  Blague." 

The  first,  whose  husband  most  assuredly  never 
married  her  for  beauty,  was  made  like  the  generality 
of  rich  heiresses,  to  whom  just  Nature  seems  sparing  of 
her  gifts,  in  proportion  as  they  are  loaded  with  those 
of  Fortune.  She  had  the  shape  of  a  woman  big  with 
child,  without  being  so;  but  had  a  very  good  reason 
for  limping;  for,  of  two  legs  uncommonly  short,  one 
was  much  shorter  than  the  other.  A  face  suitable  to 
this  description  gave  the  finishing  stroke  to  this  dis- 
agreeable figure. 

Miss  Blague  was  another  species  of  ridicule:  her 
shape  was  neither  good  nor  bad  :  her  countenance  bore 
the  appearance  of  the  greatest  insipidity,  and  her  com- 
plexion was  the  same  all  over;  with  two  little  hollow 
eyes,  adorned  with  white*  eyelashes,  as  long  as  one's 
finger.  With  these  attractions  she  placed  herself  in 
ambuscade  to  surprise  unwary  hearts;  but  she  might 
have  done  so  in  vain,  had  it  not  been  for  the  arrival 
of  the  Marquis  de  Brisacier.5  Heaven  seemed  to  have 
made  them  for  each  other:  he  had  in  his  person  and 
manners  every  requisite  to  dazzle  a  creature  of  her 
character :  he  talked  eternally,  without  saying  anything, 
and  in  his  dress  exceeded  the  most  extravagant  fash- 
ions. Miss  Blague  believed  that  all  this  finery  was  on 
her  account;  and  the  Marquis  believed  that  her  long 

8  It  appears,  by  Chamb'erlayne's  Anglia  Notitia,  1669,  that  this 
lady,  or  perhaps  her  sister,  continued  one  of  the  Duchess's  maids 
of  honour  at  that  period.  The  list,  at  the  time,  was  as  follows : — 
Mrs.  Arabella  Churchill,  Mrs.  Dorothy  Howard,  Mrs.  Anne  Ogle, 
Mrs.  Mary  Blague,  daughter  of  Colonel  Blague,  a  devoted  ad- 
herent to  Charles  II.  during  exile.  The  Mother  of  the  maids 
then  was  Mrs.  Lucy  Wise. 

*Light,  not  white  (Vizetelly's  translation). 

6  It  was  Henrietta  Maria,  the  sister  of  Mary  Blague,  who  had 
the  flirtation  with  the  Marquis.  She  married  afterwards  Sir 
Thomas  Yarborough  of  Snaith,  Yorkshire.  Evelyn  mentions  an- 
other sister,  Margaret. 


130       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

eyelashes  had  never  taken  aim  at  any  but  himself: 
everybody  perceived  their  inclination  for  each  other; 
but  they  had  only  conversed  by  mute  interpreters,  when 
Miss  Hamilton  took  it  into  her  head  to  intermeddle  in 
their  affairs. 

She  was  willing  to  do  everything  in  order,  and 
therefore  began  with  her  cousin  Muskerry  on  account 
of  her  rank.  Her  two  darling  foibles  were  dress  and 
dancing.  Magnificence  of  dress  was  intolerable  with 
her  figure ;  and  though  her  dancing  was  still  more  in- 
supportable, she  never  missed  a  ball  at  Court ;  and  the 
Queen  had  so  much  complaisance  for  the  public,  as 
always  to  make  her  dance.  But  it  was  impossible  to 
give  her  a  part  in  an  entertainment  so  important  and 
splendid  as  this  masquerade.'  However,  she  was  dying 
with  impatience  for  the  orders  she  expected. 

It  was  in  consequence  of  this  impatience,  of  which 
Miss  Hamilton  was  informed,  that  she  founded  the 
design  of  diverting  herself  at  the  expense  of  this  silly 
woman.  The  Queen  sent  notes  to  those  whom  she 
appointed  to  be  present,  and  described  the  manner  in 
which  they  were  to  be  dressed.  Miss  Hamilton  wrote 
a  note*  exactly  in  the  same  manner  to  Lady  Muskerry, 
with  directions  for  her  to  be  dressed  in  the  Babylonian 
fashion. 

She  assembled  her  counsel  to  advise  about  the  means 
of  sending  it.  This  cabinet  was  composed  of  one  of 
her  brothers  and  a  sister,  who  were  glad  to  divert 
themselves  at  the  expense  of  those  who  deserved  it. 
After  having  consulted  some  time,  they  at  last  resolved 
upon  a  mode  of  conveying  it  into  her  own  hands. 
Lord  Muskerry  was  just  going  out  when  she  received 
it:  he  was  a  man  of  honour,  rather  serious,  very 

*  Both  Evelyn  and  Pepys  mention  this  masquerade  under  the 
dates  2nd  and  3rd  February  1664-5  (vide  Cunningham's  "  Chro- 
nology," 

7  Had  a  note  written  (Vizetelly's  translation). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  131 

severe,  and  a  mortal  enemy  to  ridicule.  His  wife's 
deformity  was  not  so  intolerable  to  him  as  the  ridicu- 
lous figure  she  made  upon  all  occasions.  He  thought 
that  he  was  safe  in  the  present  case,  not  believing  that 
the  Queen  would  spoil  her  masquerade  by  naming  Lady 
Muskerry  as  one  of  the  dancers;  nevertheless,  as  he 
was  acquainted  with  the  passion  his  wife  had  to  expose 
herself  in  public,  by  her  dress  and  dancing,  he  had  just 
been  advising  her  very  seriously  to  content  herself  with 
being  a  spectator  of  this  entertainment,  even  though 
the  Queen  should  have  the  cruelty  to  engage  her  in  it. 
He  then  took  the  liberty  to  show  her  what  little  simi- 
larity there  was  between  her  figure  and  that  of  persons 
to  whom  dancing  and  magnificence  in  dress  were  allow- 
able. His  sermon  concluded  at  last,  by  an  express  pro- 
hibition to  solicit  a  place  at  this  entertainment,  which 
they8  had  no  thoughts  of  giving  her.  But,  far  from 
taking  his  advice  in  good  part,  she  imagined  that  he 
was  the  only  person  who  had  prevented  the  Queen 
from  doing  her  an  honour  she  so  ardently  desired ;  and 
as  soon  as  he  was  gone  out,  her  design  was  to  go  and 
throw  herself  at  her  Majesty's  feet  to  demand  justice. 
She  was  in  this  very  disposition  when  she  received  the 
billet :  three  times  did  she  kiss  it ;  and  without  regarding 
her  husband's  injunctions,  she  immediately  got  into 
her  coach  in  order  to  get  information  of  the  merchants 
who  traded  to  the  Levant,  in  what  manner  the  ladies 
of  quality  dressed  in  Babylon. 

The  plot  laid  for  Miss  Blague  was  of  a  different 
kind.  She  had  such  faith  in  her  charms,  and  was  so 
confident  of  their  effects,  that  she  could  believe  any- 
thing. Brisacier,  whom  she  looked  upon  as  desperately 
smitten,  had  wit,  which  he  set  off  with  commonplace 
talk,  and  with  little  sonnets :  he  sung  out  of  tune  most 
methodically,  and  was  continually  exerting  one  or 

5— Memoirs  8The  Queen   (ibid-">-  Vol.  4 


I32       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

other  of  these  happy  talents.  The  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham did  all  he  could  to  spoil  him,  by  the  praises  he 
bestowed  upon  both  his  voice  and  upon  his  wit. 

Miss  Blague,  who  hardly  understood  a  word  of 
French,  regulated  herself  upon  the  Duke's  authority, 
in  admiring  the  one  and  the  other.  It  was  remarked, 
that  all  the  words  which  he  sung  to  her  were  in  praise 
of  fair  women,  and  that  always  taking  this  to  her- 
self, she  cast  down  her  eyes  in  acknowledgment 
and  consciousness.  It  was  upon  these  observa- 
tions they  resolved  to  make  a  jest  of  her  the  first 
opportunity. 

While  these  little  projects  were  forming,  the  King, 
who  always  wished  to  oblige  the  Chevalier  de  Gra- 
mont,  asked  him  if  he  would  make  one  at  the  mas- 
querade, on  condition  of  being  Miss  Hamilton's  part- 
ner ?  He  did  not  pretend  to  dance  sufficiently  well  for 
an  occasion  like  the  present;  yet  he  was  far  from 
refusing  the  offer :  "Sire,"  said  he,  "of  all  the  favours 
you  have  been  pleased  to  show  me  since  my  arrival,  I 
feel  this  more  sensibly  than  any  other ;  and  to  convince 
you  of  my  gratitude,  I  promise  you  all  the  good  offices 
in  my  power  with  Miss  Stewart."  He  said  this  be- 
cause they  had  just  given  her  an  apartment  separate 
from  the  rest  of  the  maids  of  honour,  which  made  the 
courtiers  begin  to  pay  respect  to  her.  The  King  was 
very  well  pleased  at  this  pleasantry,  and  having 
thanked  him  for  so  necessary  an  offer:  "Monsieur  le 
Chevalier,"  said  he,  "in  what  style  do  you  intend  to 
dress  yourself  for  the  ball?  I  leave  you  the  choice  of 
all  countries."  "If  so,"  said  the  Chevalier,  "I  will 
dress  after  the  French  manner,  in  order  to  disguise 
myself;  for  they  already  do  me  the  honour  to  take  me 
for  an  Englishman  in  your  city  of  London.  Had  it  not 
been  for  this,  I  should  have  wished  to  have  appeared 
as  a  Roman ;  but  for  fear  of  embroiling  myself  with 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  133 

Prince  Rupert,"  who  so  warmly  espouses  the  interests 
of  Alexander  against  Lord  Thanet,1*  who  declares 
himself  for  Caesar,  I  dare  no  longer  think  of  assum- 
ing the  hero;  nevertheless,  though  I  may  dance 
awkwardly,  yet,  by  observing  the  tune,  and  with  a 
little  alertness,  I  hope  to  come  off  pretty  well ;  besides, 
Miss  Hamilton  will  take  care  that  too  much  attention 
shall  not  be  paid  to  me.  As  for  my  dress,  I  shall  send 
Termes  off  to-morrow  morning ;  and  if  I  do  not  show 
you  at  his  return  the  most  splendid  habit  you  have 
ever  seen,  look  upon  mine  as  the  most  disgraced  nation 
in  your  masquerade." 

Termes  set  out  with  ample  instructions  on  the 
subject  of  his  journey;  and  his  master,  redoubling 
his  impatience  on  an  occasion  like  the  present,  before 
the  courier  could  be  landed,  began  to  count  the  minutes 
in  expectation  of  his  return.  Thus  was  he  employed 
until  the  very  eve  of  the  ball;  and  that  was  the  day 
that  Miss  Hamilton  and  her  little  society  had  fixed  for 
the  execution  of  their  project. 

Martial"  gloves  were  then  very  much  in  fashion. 
She  had  by  chance  several  pairs  of  them:  she  sent 
one  to  Miss  Blague,  accompanied  with  four  yards  of 
yellow  riband,  the  palest  she  could  find,  to  which  she 
added  this  note: 

"You  were  the  other  day  more  charming  than  all 
the  fair  women  in  the  world:  you  looked  yesterday 
still  more  fair  than  you  did  the  day  before :  if  you  go 
on,  what  will  become  of  my  heart?  But  it  is  a  long 

"See  footnote,  p.  312. 

*  Either  John  or  Nicholas  Tufton,  the  second  and  third  Earls 
of  Thanet.  The  second  Earl  died  in  1664,  and  was  succeeded  by 
his  eldest  son  Nicholas,  b.  1631,  ob.  1679.  From  the  hardships  the 
family  suffered  in  the  Royalist  cause  they  adopted  the  motto 
"  Fiel  pero  desdichado."  In  the  Tufton  chapel  at  Rainham,  near 
Rochester,  there  are  numerous  ancestral  tombs. 

n  Martial  was  a  fashionable  Paris  glove-maker  at  the  time  (see 
Vizetelly's  edition  of  the  Memoirs,  voL  i.  p.  165). 


134       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

time  since  that  has  been  a  prey  to  your  pretty  little 
young  wild  boar's  eyes.12  Shall  you  be  at  the  masquer 
ade  to-morrow?  But  can  there  be  any  charms  at  an 
entertainment  at  which  you  are  not  present?  It  does 
not  signify :  I  shall  know  you  in  whatever  disguise  you 
may  be :  but  I  shall  be  better  informed  of  my  fate  by 
the  present  I  send  you.  You  will  wear  knots  of  this 
riband  in  your  hair;  and  these  gloves  will  kiss  the 
most  beautiful  hands  in  the  universe." 

This  billet,  with  the  present,  was  delivered  to  Miss 
Blague  with  the  same  success  as  the  other  had  been 
conveyed  to  Lady  Muskerry.  Miss  Hamilton  had  just 
received  an  account  of  it,  when  the  latter  came  to  pay 
her  a  visit :  something  seemed  to  possess  her  thoughts 
very  much,  when,  having  stayed  some  time,  her  cousin 
desired  her  to  walk  into  her  cabinet.  As  soon  as  they 
were  there :  "I  desire  your  secrecy  for  what  I  am  going 
to  tell  you,"  said  Lady  Muskerry.  "Do  you  not 
wonder  what  strange  creatures  men  are  ?  Do  not  trust 
to  them,  my  dear  cousin.  My  Lord  Muskerry,  who, 
before  our  marriage,  could  have  passed  whole  days  and 
nights  in  seeing  me  dance,  thinks  proper  now  to  forbid 
me  dancing,  and  says  it  does  not  become  me.  This  is 
not  all :  he  has  so  often  rung  in  my  ears  the  subject 
of  this  masquerade,  that  I  am  obliged  to  hide  from 
him  the  honour  the  Queen  has  done  me  in  inviting 
me  to  it.  However,  I  am  surprised  I  am  not  informed 
who  is  to  be  my  partner:  but  if  you  knew  what  a 
plague  it  is  to  find  out,  in  this  cursed  town,  in  what 
manner  the  people  of  Babylon  dress,  you  would  pity 
me  for  what  I  have  suffered  since  the  time  I  have  been 
appointed.  Besides,  the  cost  which  it  puts  me  to  is 
beyond  all  imagination." 

"Marcassin  is  French  for  a  wild  boar:  The  eyes  of  this 
creature  being  remarkably  small  and  lively,  from  thence  the 
French  say,  "  Des  yeux  marcassins,"  to  signify  little,  though 
roguish  eyes;  or,  as  we  say,  pigs'  eyes. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  135 

Here  it  was  that  Miss  Hamilton's  inclination  to 
laugh,  which  had  increased  in  proportion  as  she  en- 
deavoured to  suppress  it,  at  length  overcame  her,  and 
broke  out  in  an  immoderate  fit.  Lady  Muskerry  took 
it  in  good  humour,  not  doubting  but  it  was  the  fantas- 
tical conduct  of  her  husband  that  she  was  laughing  at. 
Miss  Hamilton  told  her  that  all  husbands  were  much 
the  same,  and  that  one  ought  not  to  be  concerned  at 
their  whims ;  that  she  did  not  know  who  was  to  be  her 
partner  at  the  masquerade ;  but  that,  as  she  was  named, 
the  gentleman  named  with  her  would  certainly  not  fail 
to  attend  her ;  although  she  could  not  comprehend  why 
he  had  not  yet  declared  himself,  unless  he  likewise 
had  some  fantastical  spouse,  who  had  forbid  him  to 
dance. 

This  conversation  being  finished,  Lady  "Muskerry 
went  away  in  great  haste,  to  endeavour  to  learn  some 
news  of  her  partner.  Those  who  were  accomplices  in 
the  plot  were  laughing  very  heartily  at  this  visit,  when 
Lord  Muskerry  paid  them  one  in  his  turn,  and  taking 
Miss  Hamilton  aside :  "Do  you  know,"  said  he, 
"whether  there  is  to  be  any  ball  in  the  city  to-mor- 
row?" "No,"  said  she;  "but  why  do  you  ask?" 
"Because,"  said  he,  "I  am  informed  that  my  wife  is 
making  great  preparations  of  dress.  I  know  very 
well  she  is  not  to  be  at  the  masquerade:  that  I  have 
taken  care  of ;  but  as  the  devil  is  in  her  for  dancing,  I 
am  very  much  afraid  that  she  will  be  affording  some 
fresh  subject  for  ridicule,  notwithstanding  all  my  pre- 
cautions :  however,  if  it  was  amongst  the  citizens,  at 
some  private  party,  I  should  not  much  mind  it." 

They  satisfied  him  as  well  as  they  could,  and 
having  dismissed  him,  under  pretence  of  a  thousand 
things  they  had  to  prepare  for  the  next  day,  Miss 
Hamilton  thought  herself  at  liberty  for  that  morn- 
ing, when  in  came  Miss  Price,  one  of  the  maids  of 


136       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

honour  to  the  Duchess."  This  was  just  what  she 
was  wishing  for.  This  lady  and  Miss  Blague  had  been 
at  variance  some  time,  on  account  of  Duncan,1*  whom 
Miss  Price  had  drawn  away  from  the  other;  and 
hatred  still  subsisted  between  these  two  divinities. 

Though  the  maids  of  honour  were  not  nominated 
for  the  masquerade,  yet  they  were  to  assist  at  it ;  and, 
consequently,  were  to  neglect  nothing  to  set  them- 

"This  lady  was  Goditha  Price,  the  sister  of  Henrietta  Maria 
Price,  who  was  maid  of  honour  to  the  Queen  (the  latter  figures 
in  the  list  of  names  in  Chamberlayne's  Anglia  Notitia). 

According  to  Pepys,  a  Miss  Price  was  the  mistress  of  the  Duke 
of  York,  but  was  not  openly  acknowledged  as  such,  going  to  her 
assignations  "up  and  down  the  privy  stairs"  (loth  June  1666). 
The  footnote  to  Scott's  edition  of  the  Memoirs  points  out  that 
Miss  Price  was  maid  of  honour  to  the  Queen,  not  the  Duchess, 
though  her  Christian  name  is  not  specified;  but  the  fact  of  the 
lady  being  the  Duke's  mistress  looks  as  if  she  was,  as  stated  by 
Gramont,  maid  of  honour  to  the  Duchess,  therefore  we  will  take 
as  conclusive  Mr.  Steinman's  assertion  that  it  was  Goditha  who 
died  unmarried  and  was  buried  at  St.  Margaret's,  Westminster, 
7th  September  1678. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  appears  to  be  a  similarity  between 
Gramont's  Miss  (or  rather  Mrs.,  as  single  ladies  were  called) 
Price  and  the  lady  correspondent  of  the  Earl  of  Chesterfield 
in  1665  or  1666,  who  sent  him  a  pair  of  gloves  with  a  poem  by 
Lord  Rochester,  the  latter  being  endorsed  by  Chesterfield :  "  From 
Mrs.  Prise,  Maid  of  Honour  to  Her  Majesty."  The  association 
of  Rochester  in  both  instances  strengthens  this  supposition  (vide 
the  Memoirs). 

The  Queen's  maid  of  honour,  Henrietta  Maria  Price,  became 
the  second  wife  of  Alexander  Stanhope.,  son  of  Sir  John  Stan- 
hope of  Elvaston,  Derbyshire.  Her  father  was  Sir  Herbert  Price, 
Bart.,  Master  of  the  Household  to  Queen  Henrietta  Maria  (hence 
perhaps  his  daughter's  name),  and  afterwards  to  King  Charles 
II.  She  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey,  23rd  October  1674. 
There  was  also  at  Court  a  certain  Lady  Price  n£e  Warcup.  Her 
father,  Sir  Edmond  Warcup,  belonged  to  an  old  Oxfordshire 
family,  and  wrote  with  pride  that  his  daughter  "was  one  night 
and  t'other  with  »he  King,  and  very  graciously  received  by  him  " 
(see  Wood's  Fasti  Oxon.  vol.  ii.  p.  184;  also  Grainger,  vol.  iv.  p. 
438.  See  also  Steinman's  Memoir  of  Barbara,  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land, p.  73;  Pepys's  Diary,  vol.  v.  p.  321;  and  The  Letters  of 
Philip,  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  pp.  136-137). 

"Dongan  (not  Duncan).  Lori  Orford  says  of  this  house  were 
the  ancient  Earls  of  Limerick. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT'  137 

selves  off  to  advantage.  Miss  Hamilton  had  still 
another  pair  of  gloves  of  the  same  sort  as  those  she 
had  sent  to  Miss  Blague,  which  she  made  a  present 
of  to  her  rival,  with  a  few  knots  of  the  same  riband, 
which  appeared  to  have  been  made  on  purpose  for  her, 
brown15  as  she  was.  Miss  Price  returned  her  a  thou- 
sand thanks,  and  promised  to  do  herself  the  honour  of 
wearing  them  at  the  ball.  "You  will  oblige  me  if  you 
do,"  said  Miss  Hamilton,  "but  if  you  mention  that 
such  a  trifle  as  this  comes  from  me,  I  shall  never  for- 
give you.  But,"  continued  she,  "do  not  go  and  rob  poor 
Miss  Blague  of  the  Marquis  Brisacier,  as  you  already 
have  of  Duncan.19  I  know  very  well  that  it  is  wholly 
in  your  power :  you  have  wit :  you  speak  French : 
and  were  he  once  to  converse  with  you  ever  so  little, 
the  other  could  have  no  pretensions  to  him."  This 
was  enough.  Miss  Blague  was  only  ridiculous  and 
coquettish :  Miss  Price  was  ridiculous,  coquettish,  and 
something  else  besides. 

The  day  being  come,  the  Court,  more  splendid  than 
ever,  exhibited  all  its  magnificence  at  this  masquerade. 
The  company  were  all  met  except  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont :  everybody  was  astonished  that  he  should  be 
one  of  the  last  at  such  a  time,  as  his  readiness  was  so 
remarkable  on  every  occasion ;  but  they  were  still  more 
surprised  to  see  him  at  length  appear  in  an  ordinary 
court-dress,  which  he  had  worn  before.  The  thing  was 
preposterous  on  such  an  occasion,  and  very  extraordi- 
nary with  respect  to  him:  in  vain  had  he  the  finest 
point-lace,  with  the  largest  and  best-powdered  peruke 
imaginable:  his  dress,  magnificent  enough  for  any 
other  purpose,  was  not  at  all  proper  for  this  entertain- 
ment. 

The  King  immediately  took  notice  of  it.  "Cheva- 
lier," said  he,  "Termes  is  not  arrived  then  ?"  "Pardon 

u  Dark.  le  Dongan. 


138       THE    COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

me,  sire,"  said  he;  "God  be  thanked!"  "Why  God  be 
thanked?"  said  the  King;  "has  anything  happened 
to  him  on  the  road?"  "Sire,"  said  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont,  "this  is  the  history  of  my  dress,  and  of 
Termes,  my  messenger."  At  these  words  the  ball, 
ready  to  begin,  was  suspended :  the  dancers  making  a 
circle  around  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  he  continued 
his  story  in  the  following  manner: 

"It  is  now  two  days  since  this  fellow  ought  to  have 
been  here,  according  to  my  orders  and  his  protesta- 
tions; you  may  judge  of  my  impatience  all  this  day. 
when  I  found  he  did  not  come.  At  last,  after  I  had 
heartily  cursed  him,  about  an  hour  ago  he  arrived, 
splashed  all  over  from  head  to  foot,  booted  up  to  the 
waist,  and  looking  as  if  he  had  been  excommunicated. 
'Very  well,  Mr.  Scoundrel,'  said  I,  'this  is  just  like  you ; 
you  must  be  waited  for  to  the  very  last  minute,  and 
it  is  a  miracle  that  you  are  arrived  at  all/  'Yes,  faith,' 
said  he,  'it  is  a  miracle.  You  are  always  grumbling :  I 
had  the  finest  suit  in  the  world  made  for  you,  which 
the  Duke  de  Guise  himself  was  at  the  trouble  of  order- 
ing.' 'Give  it  me  then,  scoundrel,'  said  I.  'Sir/  said 
he,  'if  I  did  not  employ  a  dozen  embroiderers  upon  it, 
who  did  nothing  but  work  day  and  night,  I  am  a 
rascal :  I  never  left  them  one  moment.'  'And  where  is 
it,  traitor  ?'  said  I :  'do  not  stand  here  prating,  while  I 
should  be  dressing.'  'I  had,'  continued  he,  'packed  it 
up,  made  it  tight,  and  folded  it  in  such  a  manner,  that 
all  the  rain  in  the  world  could  never  have  been  able 
to  reach  it;  and  I  rid  post,  day  and  night,  knowing 
your  impatience,  and  that  you  were  not  to  be  trifled 
with.'  'But  where  is  it?'  said  I.  'Lost,  sir,'  said  he, 
clasping  his  hands.  'How!  lost/  said  I,  in  surprise. 
'Yes,  lost,  perished,  swallowed  up :  what  can  I  say 
more?'  'What!  was  the  packet-boat  cast  away  then?' 
said  I.  'Oh!  indeed,  sir,  a  great  deal  worse,  as  you 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  139 

shall  see/  answered  he :  'I  was  within  half  a  league  of 
Calais  yesterday  morning,  and  I  was  resolved  to  go  by 
the  seaside,  to  make  greater  haste;  but,  indeed,  they 
say  very  true,  that  nothing  is  like  the  highway;  for  I 
got  into  a  quicksand,  where  I  sunk  up  to  the  chin.'  'A 
quicksand,'  said  I,  'near  Calais?'  'Yes,  sir,'  said  he, 
'and  such  a  quicksand,  that,  the  devil  take  me,  if  they 
saw  anything  but  the  top  of  my  head  when  they  pulled 
me  out :  as  for  my  horse,  fifteen  men  could  scarce 
get  him  out;  but  the  portmanteau,  where  I  had  un- 
fortunately put  your  clothes,  could  never  be  found :  it 
must  be  at  least  a  league  underground.' ' 

"This,  sire,"  continued  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont, 
"is  the  adventure,  and  the  relation  which  this  honest 
gentleman17  has  given  me  of  it  I  should  certainly  have 
killed  him,  but  I  was  afraid  of  making  Miss  Hamilton 
wait,  and  I  was  desirous  of  giving  Your  Majesty 
immediate  advice  of  the  quicksand,  that  your  couriers 
may  take  care  to  avoid  it." 

The  King  was  ready  to  split  his  sides  with  laughing, 
when  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  resuming  the  dis- 
course :  "Apropos,  sire,"  said  he,  "I  had  forgot  to  tell 
you,  that,  to  increase  my  ill-humour,  I  was  stopped, 
as  I  was  getting  out  of  my  chair,  by  the  devil  of 
a  phantom  in  masquerade,  who  would  by  all  means 
persuade  me  that  the  Queen  had  commanded  me  to 
dance  with  her;  and  as  I  excused  myself  with  the 
least  rudeness  possible,  she  charged  me  to  find  out  who 
was  to  be  her  partner,  and  desired  me  to  send  him 
to  her  immediately.  So  that  Your  Majesty  will  do 
well  to  give  orders  about  it ;  for  she  has  placed  herself 
in  ambush  in  a  coach,  to  seize  upon  all  those  who  pass 
through  Whitehall.  However,  I  must  tell  you,  that 
it  is  worth  while  to  see  her  dress,  for  she  must  have  at 
least  sixty  ells  of  gauze  and  silver  tissue  about  her, 
"Fellow  (Vizetelly). 


140       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

not  to  mention  a  sort  of  a  pyramid  upon  her  head, 
adorned  with  a  hundred  thousand  baubles." 

This  last  account  surprised  all  the  assembly,  except 
those  who  had  a  share  in  the  plot.  The  Queen  assured 
them  that  all  she  had  appointed  for  the  ball  were 
present;  and  the  King,  having  paused  some  minutes, 
"I  bet,"  said  he,  "that  it  is  the  Duchess  of  New- 
castle,"11 "And  I,"  said  Lord  Muskerry,  coming  up  to 
Miss  Hamilton,  "will  bet  it  is  another  fool;  for  I  am 
very  much  mistaken  if  it  is  not  my  wife." 

The  King  was  for  sending  to  know  who  it  was,  and 
to  bring  her  in.  Lord  Muskerry  offered  himself  for 
that  service,  for  the  reason  already  mentioned ;  and  it 
was  very  well  he  did  so.  Miss  Hamilton  was  not  sorry 
for  this,  knowing  very  well  that  he  was  not  mistaken 
in  his  conjecture;  the  jest  would  have  gone  much 
farther  than  she  intended,  if  the  Princess  of  Babylon 
had  appeared  in  all  her  glory. 

The  ball  was  not  very  well  executed,  if  one  may  be 
allowed  the  expression,  so  long  as  they  danced  only 

"Margaret,  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Lucas  of  Colchester,  and 
sister  of  John,  Lord  Lucas.  She  married  William  Cavendish, 
Marquis  of  Newcastle,  created  Duke  in  1665.  She  had  been  one 
of  the  maids  of  honour  to  Charles  the  First's  queen,  whom  she  at- 
tended when  forced  to  leave  England.  At  Paris  she  married  the 
Duke  of  Newcastle,  and  continued  in  exile  with  him  until  the 
Restoration.  After  her  return  to  England,  she  lived  entirely  de- 
voted to  letters,  and  published  many  volumes  of  plays,  poems,  let- 
ters, etc.  She  died  in  1673,  and  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey. 
There  is  a  whole-length  of  this  duchess  at  Welbeck,  in  a  theatrical 
dress,  which,  tradition  says,  she  generally  wore.  She  had  always  a 
maid  of  honour  in  waiting  during  the  night,  who  was  often  called 
up  to  register  the  Duchess's  conceptions.  These  were  all  of  a  lit- 
erary kind;  for  her  Grace  left  no  children.  Pepys  writes,  nth 
April  1667:  "The  whole  story  of  this  lady  is  a  romance  and  all  she 
dp  is  romantick."  Her  antiquated  appearance  is  thus  described  by 
him :  "  a  velvet  cap,  her  hair  about  her  ears,  many  black  patches, 
because  of  pimples  about  her  mouth ;  naked-necked,  without  any- 
thing about  it,  and  a  black  just-au-corps"  (jacket).  Wherever 
she  went  it  appears  she  had  a  crowd  following  her.  See  Pepys's 
Diary,  voL  vL  pp.  246,  269,  290,  299,  312. 


COUNT    DE   GRAMONT  141 

slow  dances ;  and  yet  there  were  as  good  dancers,  and 
as  beautiful  women  in  this  assembly,  as  were  to  be 
found  in  the  whole  world;  but  as  their  number  was 
not  great,  they  left  the  French  and  went  to  country 
dances.  When  they  had  danced  some  time,  the  King 
thought  fit  to  introduce  his  auxiliaries,  to  give  the 
others  a  little  respite;  the  Queen's  and  the  Duchess's 
maids  of  honour  were  therefore  called  in  to  dance1* 
with  the  gentlemen. 

Then  it  was  that  they  were  at  leisure  to  take  notice 
of  Miss  Blague,  and  they  found  that  the  billet  they 
had  conveyed  to  her  on  the  part  of  Brisacier  had  its 
effect.  She  was  more  yellow  than  saffron:  her20  hair 
was  stuffed  with  the  citron-coloured  riband,  which  she 
had  put  there  out  of  complaisance;  and,  to  inform 
Brisacier  of  his  fate,  she  raised  often  to  her  head  her 
victorious  hands,  adorned  with  the  gloves  we  have 
before  mentioned.  But,  if  they  were  surprised  to  see 
her  in  a  head-dress  that  made  her  look  more  wan  than 
ever,  she  was  very  differently  surprised  to  see  Miss 
Price  partake  with  her  in  every  particular  of  Brisa- 
cier's  present.  Her  surprise  soon  turned  to  jealousy; 
for  her  rival  had  not  failed  to  join  in  conversation 
with  him,  on  account  of  what  had  been  insinuated  to 
her  the  evening  before ;  nor  did  Brisacier  fail  to  return 
her  first  advances,  without  paying  the  least  attention 
to  the  fair  Blague,  nor  to  the  signs  which  she  was 

"The  masquerade  took  place  on  2nd  February  1664-5.  Under 
chat  date  Evelyn  says  in  his  Diary:  "  I  saw  a  masq  perform'd  at 
Court  by  6  gentlemen  and  6  ladys — surprizing  His  Majesty,  it 
being  Candlemas  day."  On  the  3rd,  Pepys  says:  There  "were 
six  wom'en  (my  Lady  Castlemayne  and  Duchesse  of  Monmouth 
being  two  of  them)  and  six  men  (the  Duke  of  Monmouth  and 
Lord  Arran  and  Monsieur  Blanfort  [Blanquefort,  afterwards 
Earl  of  Feversham]  being  three  of  them)  in  vizards,  but  most 
rich  and  antique  dresses,  did  dance  admirably  and  most  glori- 
ously. God  give  us  cause  to  continue  the  mirthe  I " 

"Light  hair  (Vizetelly). 


142        THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

tormenting  herself  to  make  him,  to  inform  him  of  his 
happy  destiny. 

Miss  Price  was  short  and  thick,  and  consequently 
no  dancer.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  brought 
Brisacier  forward  as  often  as  he  could,  came  to  desire 
him,  on  the  part  of  the  King,  to  dance  with  Miss 
Blague,  without  knowing  what  was  then  passing  in 
that  nymph's  heart.  Brisacier  excused  himself,  on 
account  of  the  contempt  that  he  had  for  country 
dances.  Miss  Blague  thought  that  it  was  herself  that 
he  despised;  and  seeing  that  he  was  engaged  in  con- 
versation with  her  mortal  enemy,  she  began  to  dance, 
without  knowing  what  she  was  doing.  Though  her 
indignation  and  jealousy  were  -sufficiently  remarkable 
to  divert  the  Court,  none  but  Miss  Hamilton  and  her 
accomplices  understood  the  joke  perfectly.  Their 
pleasure  was  quite  complete;  for  Lord  Muskerry  re- 
turned, still  more  confounded  at  the  vision  of  which 
the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  had  given  the  description. 
He  acquainted  Miss  Hamilton  that  it  was  Lady 
Muskerry  herself,  a  thousand  times  more  ridiculous 
than  she  had  ever  been  before,  and  that  he  had  had 
an  immense  trouble  to  get  her  home,  and  place  a  sentry 
at  her  chamber  door. 

The  reader  may  think,  perhaps,  that  we  have  dwelt 
too  long  on  these  trifling  incidents ;  perhaps  he  may  be 
right.  We  will  therefore  pass  to  others. 

Everything  favoured  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  in 
the  new  passion  which  he  entertained.  He  was  not, 
however,  without  rivals ;  but,  what  is  a  great  deal  more 
extraordinary,  he  was  without  uneasiness.  He  was 
acquainted  with  their  understandings,  and  no  stranger 
to  Miss  Hamilton's  way  of  thinking. 

Among  her  lovers,  the  most  considerable,  though 
the  least  professedly  so,  was  the  Duke  of  York :  it  was 
in  vain  for  him  to  conceal  it,  the  Court  was  too  well 


COUNT    DE   GRAMONT  143 

acquainted  with  his  character  to  doubt  of  his  inclina- 
tions for  her.  He  did  not  think  it  proper  to  declare 
such  sentiments  as  were  not  fit  for  Miss  Hamilton  to 
hear;  but  he  talked  to  her  as  much  as  he  could,  and 
ogled  her  with  great  assiduity.  As  hunting  was  his 
favourite  diversion,  that  sport  employed  him  one  part 
of  the  day,  and  he  came  home  generally  much  fa- 
tigued; but  Miss  Hamilton's  presence  revived  him,  when 
he  found  her  either  with  the  Queen  or  the  Duchess. 
There  it  was  that,  not  daring  to  tell  her  of  what  lay 
heavy  on  his  heart,  he  entertained  her  with  what  he 
had  in  his  head ;  telling  her  miracles  of  the  cunning  of 
foxes  and  the  mettle  of  horses;  giving  her  accounts 
of  broken  legs  and  arms,  dislocated  shoulders,  and 
other  curious  and  entertaining  adventures;  after 
which,  his  eyes  told  her  the  rest,  till  such  time  as  sleep 
interrupted  their  conversation ;  for  these  tender  inter- 
preters could  not  help  sometimes  composing*1  them- 
selves in  the  midst  of  their  ogling. 

The  Duchess  was  not  at  all  alarmed  at  a  passion 
which  her  rival  was  far  from  thinking  sincere,  and 
with  which  she  used  to  divert  herself,  as  far  as  respect 
would  permit  her;  on  the  contrary,  as  Her  Highness 
had  an  affection  and  esteem  for  Miss  Hamilton,  she 
never  treated  her  more  graciously  than  on  the  present 
occasion. 

The  two  Russells,  uncle22  and  nephew,28  were  two 
other  of  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont's  rivals.  The 

*  Closing  (Vizetelly). 

ajohn  Russell,  third  son  of  Francis,  the  fourth  Earl  of  Bed- 
ford, and  younger  brother  of  the  first  Duke  of  Bedford,  colonel 
of  the  first  regiment  of  foot  guards.  He  died  unmarried,  1681. 
In  1664,  at  the  time  Gramont  speaks  of,  Russell  was  fully  twenty 
years  younger  than  above  described  (see  Notes  and  Queries, 
Series  I.  vol.  ix.  p.  584).  Pepys  mentions  him  at  a  Court  ball 
I5th  November  1666. 

33  William,  eldest  son  of  Hon.  Edward  Russell,  who  was  the 
brother  of  Colonel  John,  mentioned  above,  and  William,  the  fifth 
Earl  of  Bedford  (afterwards  created  Duke),  whose  son  Lord 


144       THE  COURT  OF  CHARLES   II 

uncle  was  full  seventy,"  and  had  distinguished  him- 
self by  his  courage  and  fidelity  in  the  civil  wars.  His 
passions  and  intentions,  with  regard  to  Miss  Hamil- 
ton, appeared  both  at  once;  but  his  magnificence  only 
appeared  by  halves  in  those  gallantries  which  love 
inspires. 

It  was  not  long  since  the  fashion  of  high-crowned 
hats  had  been  left  off,  in  order  to  fall  into  the  other 
extreme.  Old  Russell,  amazed  at  so  terrible  a  change, 
resolved  to  keep  a  medium,  which  made  him  remark- 
able. He  was  still  more  so,  by  his  constancy  for  cut* 
doublets,  which  he  supported  a  long  time  after  they 
had  been  universally  suppressed;  but,  what  was  more 
surprising  than  all  was  a  certain  mixture  of  avarice 
and  liberality,  constantly  at  war  with  each  other,  ever 
since  he  had  entered  the  lists  with  love. 

His  nephew  was  only  of  a  younger  brother's  fam- 
ily, but  was  considered  as  his  uncle's  heir ;  and  though 
he  was  under  the  necessity  of  attending  to  his  uncle  for 
an  establishment,  and  still  more  so  of  humouring  him, 
in  order  to  get  his  estate,  he  could  not  avoid  his  fate. 
Mrs.  Middleton  showed  him  a  sufficient  degree  of 
preference;  but  her  favours  could  not  secure  him  from 
the  charms  of  Miss  Hamilton.  His  person  would  have 
had  nothing  disagreeable  in  it  if  he  had  but  left  it  to 
nature ;  but  he  was  formal  in  all  his  actions,  and  silent 
even  to  stupidity ;  and  yet  rather  more  tiresome  when 
he  did  speak. 

William  Russell  was  beheaded  for  implication  in  the  Rye  House 
Plot  A  portrait  of  the  last  mentioned  has  been  given  in  three 
of  the  illustrated  editions  of  De  Gramont,  though  he  was  a 
cousin  of  the  William  Russell  described  above,  and  had  no  con- 
nection with  the  adventures  recorded  in  the  Memoirs.  The 
Chevalier's  youthful  rival  was  half-brother  to  the  Misses  Brooke. 
He  died  unmarried  in  1674. 

"In  the  original  French  it  is  sixty  (see  Vizetelly's  edition),  but 
to  give  the  uncle's  real  age  at  this  time,  forty  would  be  more 
correct  *  Slashed  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT    DE   GRAMONT  1145 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  very  much  at  his  ease 
in  all  these  competitions,  engaged  himself  more  and 
more  in  his  passion,  without  forming  other  designs, 
or  conceiving  other  hopes,  than  to  render  himself 
agreeable.  Although  his  passion  was  openly  declared, 
no  person  at  Court  regarded  it  otherwise  than  as  a 
habit  of  gallantry,  which  goes  no  farther  than  to  do 
justice  to  merit. 

His  monitor,  Saint-Evremond,  was  quite  of  a  dif- 
ferent opinion,  and  finding  that,  besides  an  immense 
increase  of  magnificence  and  assiduity,  he  regretted 
those  hours  which  he  bestowed  on  play;  that  he  no 
longer  sought  after  those  long  and  agreeable  conver- 
sations they  used  to  have  together ;  and  that  this  new 
attachment  everywhere  robbed  him  of  himself: 

"Monsieur  le  Chevalier,"  said  he,  "methinks  that 
for  some  time  you  have  left  the  town  beauties  and 
their  lovers  in  perfect  repose.  Mrs.  Middleton  makes 
fresh  conquests  with  impunity,  and  wears  your  pres- 
ents, under  your  nose,  without  your  taking  the  small- 
est notice.  Poor  Miss  Warmester  has  been  very 
quietly  brought  to  bed  in  the  midst  of  the  Court,  with- 
out your  having  even  said  a  word  about  it.  I  foresaw 
it  plain  enough,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier,  you  have  got 
acquainted  with  Miss  Hamilton,  and — what  has  never 
before  happened  to  you — you  are  really  in  love.  But 
let  us  consider  a  little  what  may  be  the  consequence. 
In  the  first  place,  then,  I  believe  you  have  not  the  least 
intention  of  seducing  her ;  such  is  her  birth  and  merit, 
that  if  you  were  in  possession  of  the  estate  and  title 
of  your  family,  it  might  be  excusable  in  you  to  offer 
yourself  upon  honourable  terms,  however  ridiculous 
marriage  may  be  in  general;  for,  if  you  only  wish  for 
wit,  prudence,  and  the  treasures  of  beauty,  you  could 
not  pay  your  addresses  to  a  more  proper  person.  But 
for  you,  who  possess  only  a  very  moderate  share  of 


I46       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

those  of  fortune,  you  cannot  pay  your  addresses  more 
improperly. 

"For  your  brother  Toulongeon,"  whose  disposition 
I  am  acquainted  with,  will  not  have  the  complaisance 
to  die  to  favour  your  pretensions.  But  suppose  you 
had  a  competent  fortune  for  you  both, — and  that  is 
supposing  a  good  deal, — are  you  acquainted  with  the 
delicacy  not  to  say  capriciousness,  of  this  fair  one 
about  such  an  engagement?  Do  you  know  that  she 
has  had  the  choice  of  the  best  matches  in  England? 
The  Duke  of  Richmond  paid  his  addresses  to  her  first ; 
but  though  he  was  in  love  with  her,  still  he  was  merce- 
nary. However,  the  King,  observing  that  want  of  for- 
tune was  the  only  impediment  to  the  match,  took  that 
article  upon  himself,  out  of  regard  to  the  Duke  of 
Ormonde,  to  the  merit  and  birth  of  Miss  Hamilton, 
and  to  her  father's  services ;  but  resenting  that  a  man, 
who  pretended  to  be  in  love,  should  bargain  like  a 
merchant,  and  likewise  reflecting  upon  his  character 
in  the  world,  she  did  not  think  that  being  Duchess  of 
Richmond  was  a  sufficient  recompense  for  the  danger 
that  was  to  be  feared  from  a  brute  and  a  debauchee. 

"Has  not  little  Jermyn,  notwithstanding  his  uncle's 
great  estate,  and  his  own  brilliant  reputation,  failed 
in  his  suit  to  her?  And  has  she  ever  so  much  as 
vouchsafed  to  look  at  Henry  Howard,"  who  is  upon 

"Count  de  Toulongeon,  elder  brother  of  the  Count  de  Gra- 
mont,  ob.  1679. 

"Henry  Howard  (b.  1628,  ob.  1684)  succeeded  his  brother 
Thomas  in  the  Dukedom  of  Norfolk  (revived  1664)  in  1677,  be- 
fore which  (1672)  he  was  created  Earl  of  Norwich  and  con- 
stituted Earl  Marshal  of  England.  He  bequeathed  the  library 
made  by  his  grandfather,  Thomas,  Earl  of  Arundel,  to  the  Royal 
Society,  and  the  famous  Arundel  marbles  to  Oxford  university. 

Evelyn  says,  23rd  January  1678:  "  Din'd  with  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  being  the  first  time  I  had  scene  him  since  the  death  of 
his  elder  brother,  who  died  at  Padoa  in  Italy,  where  he  resided 
above  30  yeares.  The  Duke  had  now  newly  declar'd  his  marriage 
to  his  concubine,  whom  he  promis'd  me  he  never  would  marry." 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  147 

the  point  of  being  the  first  duke  in  England,  and  who 
is  already  in  actual  possession  of  all  the  estates  of 
the  house  of  Norfolk?  I  confess  that  he  is  a  clown, 
but  what  other  lady  in  all  England  would  not  have 
dispensed  with  his  stupidity  and  his  disagreeable  per- 
son to  be  the  first  duchess  in  the  kingdom,  with  twenty- 
five  thousand  a  year? 

"To  conclude,  Lord  Falmouth  has  told  me  himself 
that  he  has  always  looked  upon  her  as  the  only  acquisi- 
tion wanting  to  complete  his  happiness ;  but,  that  even 
at  the  height  of  the  splendour  of  his  fortune,  he  never 
had  had  the  assurance  to  open  his  sentiments  to  her; 
that  he  either  felt  in  himself  too  much  weakness,  or  too 
much  pride,  to  be  satisfied  with  obtaining  her  solely  by 
the  persuasion  of  her  relations;  and  that,  though  the 
first  refusals  of  the  fair  on  such  occasions  are  not 
much  minded,  he  knew  with  what  an  air  she  had 
received  the  addresses  of  those  whose  persons  she  did 
not  like.  After  this,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier,  consider 
what  method  you  intend  to  pursue :  for  if  you  are  in 
love,  the  passion  will  still  increase,  and  the  greater  the 
attachment,  the  less  capable  will  you  be  of  making 
those  serious  reflections  that  are  now  in  your  power." 

"My  poor  philosopher,"  answered  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont,  "you  understand  Latin  very  well,  you  can 

This  was  his  second  wife,  Jane  Bickerton,  the  actress  daughter 
of  a  Scotch  gentleman,  Robert  Bickerton,  gentleman  of  the  wine 
cellar  to  Charles  II.  ^  Evelyn  speaks  of  the  Duke's  "  Palace " 
(Ham  House,  Weybridge),  newly  built  at  great  expense,  and  of 
its  costly  fittings,  pictures,  etc.  It  was  afterwards  sold  to  James 
II.'s  mistress,  the  Countess  of  Dorchester,  and  through  h'er 
daughter  descended  to  the  Earls  of  Portmore.  Nothing  now  re- 
mains but  the  (restored)  piers  of  the  entrance  gate  (for  further 
particulars  see  Secret  Chambers  and  Hiding  Places,  pp.  214-216). 
The  Duke  of  Norfolk  appears  to  have  parted  with  most  of  his 
valuable  pictufes.  Evelyn  asked  whether  he  would  part  with  his 
Raphael  cartoons  and  drawings  (on  gth  March  1683),  and  was 
told  "the  late  Sir  Peter  Lely  had  gotten  some  of  his  best"  (Eve- 
lyn's Diary).  These  were  dispersed  at  that  artists's  famous  sale 
of  pictures. 


148       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

make  good  verses,  you  understand  the  course,  and 
are  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the  stars  in  the 
firmament ;  but,  as  for  the  luminaries  of  the  terrestrial 
globe,  you  are  utterly  unacquainted  with  them.  You 
have  told  me  nothing  about  Miss  Hamilton  but  what 
the  King  told  me  three  days  ago.  That  she  has  refused 
the  savages  you  have  mentioned  is  all  in  her  favour:  if 
she  had  admitted  their  addresses,  I  would  have  had 
nothing  to  say  to  her,  though  I  love  her  to  distraction. 
Attend  now  to  what  I  am  going  to  say :  I  am  resolved 
to  marry  her,  and  I  will  have  my  tutor  Saint-Evremond 
himself  to  be  the  first  man  to  commend  me  for  it.  As 
for  an  establishment,  I  shall  make  my  peace  with  the 
King,  and  will  solicit  him  to  make  her  one  of  the  ladies 
of  the  bed-chamber  to  the  Queen.  This  he  will  grant 
me.  Toulongeon  will  die,  without  my  assistance,  and 
notwithstanding  all  his  care;  and  Miss  Hamilton  will 
have  Semeac,28  with  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  as  an 
indemnification  for  the  Norfolks  and  Richmonds. 
Now,  have  you  anything  to  advance  against  this 
project?  For  I  will  bet  you  an  hundred  louis  that 
everything  will  happen  as  I  have  foretold  it." 

At  this  time  the  King's  attachment  to  Miss  Stewart 
was  so  public,  that  every  person  perceived,  that  if  she 
was  but  possessed  of  art,  she  might  become  as  abso- 
lute a  mistress  over  his  conduct  as  she  was  over  his 
heart."  This  was  a  fine  opportunity  for  those  who 

"Semeac,  a  country  seat  belonging  to  the  Gramonts. 

*8th  February  1662-3.  Pepys  mentions  a  story,  related  by  one 
Captain  Ferrers,  of  an  entertainment  given  by  Lady  Castleinaine, 
"a  frolique  that  they  two  must  be  married.  Married  they  were 
with  ring  and  all  other  ceremonies  of  Church  service,  and  rib- 
bands and  a  sack  posset  in  bed  and  flinging  the  stocking;  but  in 
the  close,  it  is  said  that  my  Lady  Castlemaine,  who  was  the 
bridegroom,  rose,  and  the  King  came  and  took  her  place  with 
pretty  Mrs.  Stuart."  This  story,  however,  is  unsubstantiated, 
though  it  was  certainly  rumoured  that  Frances  Stewart  had 
become  the  King's  mistress  (vide  Pepys,  I7th  February  1662-3, 
3  8th  May  1663,  and  I5th  April  1666).  That  these  were  only 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  149 

had  experience  and  ambition.  The  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham formed  the  design  of  governing  her,  in  order  to 
ingratiate  himself  with  the  King:  God  knows  what  a 
governor  he  would  have  been,  and  what  a  head  he  was 
possessed  of,  to  guide  another.  However,  he  was  the 
properest  man  in  the  world  to  insinuate  himself  with 
Miss  Stewart ;  she  was  childish  in  her  behaviour,  and 
laughed  at  everything,  and  her  taste  for  frivolous 
amusements,  though  unaffected,  was  only  allowable  in 
a  girl  about  twelve  or  thirteen  years  old.  A  child, 
however,  she  was,  in  every  other  respect,  except  play- 
ing with  a  doll.  Blindman's  buff  was  her  most  favour- 
ite amusement.  She  was  building  castles  of  cards, 
while  the  deepest  play  was  going  on  in  her  apart- 
ments, where  you  saw  her  surrounded  by  eager  court- 
iers, who  handed  her  the  cards,  or  young  architects, 
who  endeavoured  to  imitate  her. 

She  had,  however,  a  passion  for  music,  and  had 
some  taste  for  singing.     The  Duke  of  Buckingham, 

rumours  may  be  gathered  from  an  entry  on  6th  November  1663. 
Lord  Sandwich  hers  tells  Pepys  "  how  he  and  Sir  H.  Bennet,  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham  and  his  Duchesse,  was  of  a  committee  with 
somebody  else  for  the  getting  of  Mrs.  Stewart  for  the  King ;  but 
that  she  proves  a  common  slut,  and  is  advised  at  Somerset  House 
by  the  Queen  Mother  and  by  her  mother,  and  so  all  the  plot  is 
spoiled  and  the  whole  committee  broke."  Three  days  later, 
Pierce,  the  surgeon,  tells  Pepys  "how  the  ^  King  is  now  become 
besotted  upon  Mrs.  Stewart,  that  he  gets  into  corners,  and  will 
be  with  her  half  an  hour  together  kissing  her  to  the  observation 
of  all  the  world;  and  she  now  stays  by  herself  and  expects  it"; 
and  on  aoth  January  1663-4,  the  diarist  records  from  the  same 
source  that  the  King  "do  doat  upon  Mrs.  Stewart  only''  and 
*  dallies  with  her  openly,  and  then  privately  in  his  chamber  below, 
where  the  very  sentrys  observe  his  going  in  and  out,  and  that  so 
commonly  that  the  Duke  or  any  of  the  nobles  when  they  would 
ask  where  the  King  is,  they  will  ordinarily  say,  'Is  the  King 
above  or  below  ?  '  meaning  with  Mrs.  Stewart."  On  8th  February 
1663-4,  again  from  Pierce,  Pepys  learns  how  the  Queen  "will  of 
herself  stop  before  she  goes  ^  sometimes  into  her  dressing-room 
till  she  knows  whether  the  King  be  there,  for  fear  he  should  be 
as  she  hath  sometimes  taken  him  with  Mrs.  Stewart" 


150       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

who  built  the  finest  towers  of  cards  imaginable,  had 
an  agreeable  voice.  She  had  no  aversion  to  scandal ; 
and  the  Duke  was  both  the  father  and  the  mother  of 
scandal.  He  made  songs,  and  invented  old  women's 
stories,  with  which  she  was  delighted ;  but  his  particu- 
lar talent  consisted  in  turning  into  ridicule  whatever 
was  ridiculous  in  other  people,  and  in  taking  them  off, 
even  in  their  presence,  without  their  perceiving  it.  In 
short,  he  knew  how  to  act  all  parts  with  so  much  grace 
and  pleasantry,  that  it  was  difficult  to  do  without  him, 
when  he  had  a  mind  to  make  himself  agreeable;  and 
he  made  himself  so  necessary  to  Miss  Stewart's  amuse- 
ment, that  she  sent  all  over  the  town  to  seek  for  him, 
when  he  did  not  attend  the  King  to  her  apartments. 

He  was  extremely  handsome,30  and  still  thought 
himself  much  more  so  than  he  really  was.  Although 
he  had  a  great  deal  of  discernment,  yet  his  vanity  made 

"George  Villiers,  the  second  Duke  of  Buckingham,  was  born 
30th  January  1627.  Lord  Orford  observes :  "  When  this  extraor- 
dinary man,  with  the  figure  and  genius  of  Alcibiades,  could 
equally  charm  the  presbyterian  Fairfax  and  the  dissolute  Charles; 
when  he  alike  ridiculed  that  witty  king  and  his  solemn  chancellor ; 
when  he  plotted  the  ruin  of  his  country  with  a  cabal  of  bad  min- 
isters, or,  equally  unprincipled,  supported  its  cause  with  bad 
patriots, — one  laments  that  such  parts  should  have  been  devoid 
of  every  virtue;  but  when  Alcibiades  turns  chemist;  when  he  is 
a  real  bubble  and  a  visionary  miser ;  when  ambition  is  but  a 
frolic;  when  the  worst  designs  are  for  the  foolishest  ends, — con- 
tempt extinguishes  all  reflection  on  his  character." 

"  The  portrait  of  this  duke  has  been  drawn  by  four  masterly 
hands.  Burnet  has  hewn  it  out  with  his  rough  chisel ;  Count 
Hamilton  touched  it  with  that  slight  delicacy  that  finishes  while 
it  seems  but  to  sketch ;  Dryden  caught  the  living  likeness ;  Pope 
completed  the  historical  resemblance "  (Royal  Authors,  vol.  ii. 
p.  7?). 

Bishop  Burnet  says,  he  "was  a  man  of  noble  presence.  He 
had  a  great  liveliness  of  wit.  and  a  peculiar  faculty  of  turning 
all  things  into  ridicule,  with  bold  figures,  and  natural  descriptions. 
He  had  no  sort  of  literature,  only  he  was  drawn  into  chemistry; 
and  for  some  years  he  thought  he  was  very  near  the  finding 
the  philosopher's  stone,  which  had  the  effect  that  attends  on  all 
such  men  as  he  was  when  they  are  drawn  in,  to  lay  out  for  it 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  151 

him  mistake  some  civilities  as  intended  for  his  person, 
which  were  only  bestowed  on  his  wit  and  drollery.  In 
short,  being  seduced  by  too  good  an  opinion  of  his 
own  merit,  he  forgot  his  first  project  and  his  Portu- 
guese mistress,  in  order  to  pursue  a  fancy  in  which  he 
mistook  himself;  for  he  no  sooner  began  to  act  a 
serious  part  with  Miss  Stewart,  than  he  met  with  so 
severe  a  repulse  that  he  abandoned  at  once  all  his 

He  had  no  principles  of  religion,  virtue,  or  friendship — pleasure, 
frolic,  or  extravagant  diversion  was  all  that  he  laid  to  heart. 
He  was  true  to  nothing;  for  he  was  not  true  to  himself.  He 
had  no  steadiness  nor  conduct :  he  could  keep  no  s'ecret,  nor 
execute  any  design  without  spoiling  it.  He  could  never  fix  his 
thoughts,  nor  govern  his  estate,  though  then  the  greatest  in 
England.  He  was  bred  about  the  King,  and  for  many  years  he 
had  a  great  ascendency  over  him ;  but  he  spake  of  him  to  all 
persons  with  that  contempt,  that  at  last  he  drew  a  lasting  disgrace 
upon  himself.  And  he  at  length  ruined  both  body  and  mind, 
fortune  and  reputation  equally.  The  madness  of  vice  appeared 
in  his  person  in  very  eminent  instances ;  since  at  last  he  became 
contemptible  and  poor,  sickly,  and  sunk  in  his  parts,  as  well  as 
in  all  oth^r  respects ;  so  that  his  conversation  was  as  much 
avoided  as  ever  it  had  been  courted." — History  of  his  Own  Time, 
vol.  i.  p.  137. 

Reresby  speaks  of  Buckingham  as  "  the  finest  gentleman  of 
person  and  wit  I  think  I  ever  saw"  (Memoirs  p.  40).  Like  the 
first  Duke,  he  had  a  particularly  graceful  mien,  and  in  horseman- 
ship, fencing,  or  dancing,  nobody  could  surpass  him.  Profligacy, 
vanity,  and  restless  ambition  were  perhaps  Buckingham's  chief 
characteristics ;  but  with  all  his  faults  he  is  said  to  have  been 
charitable,  good-natured,  and  forgiving,  and,  like  his  rival  Ar- 
lington, always  courteous.  His  chief  amusements,  especially  in 
the  latter  part  of  his  life,  were  racing  and  hunting,  and  it  was 
while  following  the  hounds  that  he  caught  a  chill  which  resulted 
in  his  death,  at  the  house  of  a  tenant  at  Kirkby  Moorside,  on 
i6th  April  1687.  With  the  death  of  Charles  IT.,  Buckingham 
had  retired  from  the  political  arena,  and  lived  peacefully  in 
Yorkshire.  He  had  fallen  into  disgrace  in  1674,  but  was  again 
received  into  favour  towards  the  end  of  Charles's  reign.  His 
wife,  Mary  Fairfax,  survived  him  seventeen  years,  and  was 
buried  with  her  husband  in  Henry  VII.'s  Chapel,  Westminster. 
Among  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  satirical  poems,  lampoons, 
and  plays,  The  Rehearsal,  published  in  1672,  is  by  far  the  best. 
See  Buckingham's  Miscellaneous  Works,  1704-5;  also  Diet,  of 
Nat.  Biography,  vol.  Iviii.  pp.  337-345. 


152       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

designs  upon  her.  However,  the  familiarity  she  had 
procured  him  with  the  King  opened  the  way  to  those 
favours  to  which  he  was  afterwards  advanced. 

"The  Duke  of  Bucks  is  one,"  says  Samuel  Butler,  "that  has 
studied  the  whole  body  of  vice.  His  parts  are  disproportionate 
to  the  whole,  and,  like  a  monster,  he  has  more  of  some,  and  less 
of  others,  than  he  should  have.  He  has  pulled  down  all  that 
nature  raised  in  him,  and  built  himself  up  again  after  a  model 
of  his  own.  He  has  dammed  up  all  those  lights  that  nature 
made  into  the  noblest  prospects  of  the  world,  and  opened  other 
little  blind  loopholes  backward,  by  turning  day  into  night,  and 
night  into  day.  His  appetite  to  his  pleasures  is  diseased  and 
crazy,  like  the  pica  in  a  woman,  that  longs  to  eat  that  which 
was  never  made  for  food,  or  a  girl  in  the  green  sickness,  that 
eats  chalk  and  mortar.  Perpetual  surfeits  of  pleasure  have  filled 
his  mind  with  bad  and  vicious  humours  (as  well  as  his  body  with 
a  nursery  of  diseases),  which  makes  him  affect  new  and  extrava- 
gant ways,  as  being  sick  and  tired  with  the  old.  Continual  wine, 
women,  and  music,  put  false  value  upon  things,  which,  by  cus- 
tom, become  habitual,  and  debauch  his  understanding  so,  that  he 
retains  no  right  notion  nor  sense  of  things.  And  as  the  same 
dose  of  the  same  physic  has  no  operation  on  those  that  are  much 
used  to  it,  so  his  pleasures  require  larger  proportion  of  excess 
and  variety,  to  render  him  sensible  of  them.  He  rises,  eats,  and 
goes  to  bed  by  the  Julian  account,  long  after  all  others  that 
go  by  the  new  style,  and  keeps  the  same  hours  with  owls  and  the 
antipodes.  He  is  a  great  observer  of  the  Tartar  customs,  and 
never  eats  till  the  great  cham,  having  dined,  makes  proclamation 
that  all  the  world  may  go  to  dinner.  He  does  not  dwell  in  his 
house,  but  haunts  it  like  an  evil  spirit,  that  walks  all  night,  to 
disturb  the  family,  and  never  appears  by  day.  He  lives  perpetu- 
ally benighted,  runs  out  of  his  life,  and  loses  his  time  as  men 
do  their  ways  in  the  dark;  and  as  blind  men  are  led  by  their 
dogs,  so  is  he  governed  by  some  mean  servant  or  other,  that  re- 
lates to  his  pleasures.  He  is  as  inconstant  as  the  moon  which 
he  lives  under;  and  although  he  does  nothing  but  advise  with 
his  pillow  all  day,  he  is  as  great  a  stranger  to  himself  as  he  is  to 
the  rest  of  the  world.  His  mind  entertains  all  things  very  freely 
that  come  and  go,  but,  like  guests  and  strangers,  they  are  not 
welcome  if  they  stay  long.  This  lays  him  open  to  all  cheats, 
quacks,  and  impostors,  who  apply  to  every  particular  humour 
while  it  lasts,  and  afterwards  vanish.  Thus,  with  St.  Paul, 
though  in  a  different  sense,  he  dies  daily,  and  only  lives  in  the 
night.  He  deforms  nature,  while  he  intends  to  adorn  her,  like 
Indians  that  hang  jewels  in  their  lips  and  noses.  His  ears  are 
perpetually  drilled  with  a  fiddlestick.  He  endures  pleasures  with 
less  patience  than  other  men  do  their  pains"  (Butler's  Pos- 
thumous Works,  voL  ii.  p.  72). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  153 

Lord  Arlington81  took  up  the  project  which  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham  had  abandoned,  and  endeav- 
oured to  gain  possession  of  the  mind  of  the  mistress, 
in  order  to  govern  the  master.  A  man  of  greater  merit 
and  higher  birth  than  himself  might,  however,  have 
been  satisfied  with  the  fortune  he  had  already  acquired. 

81  Henry  Bennet,  Earl  of  Arlington,  second  son  of  Sir  John 
Bennet  of  Harlington,  Middlesex,  born  1618.  He  was  secretary 
to  the  Duke  of  York  in  France  before  the  Restoration.  When 
Charles  came  to  the  throne  he  was  made  Keeper  of  the  Privy 
Purse,  and,  according  to  Burnet  (vol.  i.  p.  182,  1833  'edit),  with 
his  friend  Sir  Charles  Berkeley,  had  the  management  of  the  Royal 
mistresses;  no  easy  task,  one  would  imagine,  but  his  easy  prin- 
ciples, natural  cunning,  and  dissimulation,  combined  with  his 
courtly  manner  and  good  breeding,  peculiarly  adapted  him  for 
such  an  office.  "  He  was  little  calculated  for  bold  measures  on 
account  of  his  natural  timidity,"  says  Macpherson  (Original 
Papers,  vol.  i.),  "and  that  defect  created  an  opinion  of  his  mod- 
eration that  was  ascribed  to  virtue.  His  facility  to  adopt  new 
measures  was  forgotten  in  his  readiness  to  acknowledge  the 
errors  of  the  old.  The  deficiency  of  his  integrity  was  forgiven 
in  the  decency  of  his  dishonesty."  He  managed  to  keep  in  the 
King's  good  graces  until  his  retirement  towards  the  end  of 
Charles's  reign.  His  solemn  face  and  formal  gait,  his  _  official 
white  staff  and  the  ungainly  black  patch  across  the  bridge  of 
his  nose  made  ^him  the  object  of  much  mimicry  among  the 
younger  generation  of  courtiers  (see  Echard,  p.  369). 

He  was  made  Secretary  of  State,  October  1662,  and  in  the 
following  year  was  created  Viscount  Thetford  and  Earl  of 
Arlington :  by  an  error  at  the  Heralds'  College  the  H  was 
omitted.  It  was  at  his  seat,  Euston  Hall,  where  Louise  Keroualle, 
afterwards  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  became  the  King's  mistress 
(see  Evelyn's  Diary,  pth  October  1671).  Both  Pepys  and  Evelyn 
mention  his  town  residence  "  Goring  House,"  which  occupied  the 
site  of  the  present  Buckingham  Palac'e.  The  latter  speaks  of  the 
costly  interior  decorations — pictures,  cabinets,  hangings,  etc. — 
"the  most  princely  furniture  that  any  subject  had  in  England," 
which,  with  the  mansion,  were  destroyed  by  fire  in  September 
1674;  Pepys,  I2th  July  1666;  Evelyn,  7th  April  1673  and  2ist  Sep- 
tember 1674;  also  Hist.  M.S.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.  p.  492). 

The  Earl  died  28th  July  1685  (and  was  buried  at  Euston), 
leaving  an  only  daughter,  Isabella,  who  married  (1672)  Henry, 
Earl  of  Euston,  afterwards  Duke  of  Grafton,  Charles  II.'s  son 
by  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland.  See  Cunningham's  London;  Diet, 
of  Nat.  Biography,  vol.  5v.  pp.  230-233;  Macpherson's  Original 
Papers,  vol.  i.;  Works  of  John  Sheffield,  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, etc. 


154       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

His  first  negotiations  were  during  the  treaty  of  the 
Pyrenees ;  and  though  he  was  unsuccessful  in  his  pro- 
ceedings for  his  employer,  yet  he  did  not  altogether 
lose  his  time:  for  he  perfectly  acquired  in  his  exterior 
the  serious  air  and  profound  gravity  of  the  Spaniards, 
and  imitated  pretty  well  their  tardiness  in  business. 
He  had  a  scar  across  his  nose,  which  was  covered  by 
a  long  patch,  or  rather  by  a  small  plaister,  in  form  of 
a  lozenge. 

Scars  in  the  face  commonly  give  a  man  a  certain 
fierce  and  martial  air,  which  sets  him  off  to  advan- 
tage; but  it  was  quite  the  contrary  with  him,  and 
this  remarkable  plaister  so  well  suited  his  mysterious 
looks,  that  it  seemed  an  addition  to  his  gravity  and 
self-sufficiency. 

Arlington,  under  the  mask  of  this  compound 
countenance,  where  great  earnestness  passed  for  busi- 
ness, and  impenetrable  stupidity  for  secrecy,  had  given 
himself  the  character  of  a  great  politician ;  and  no  one 
having  leisure  to  examine  him,  he  was  taken  at  his 
word,  and  had  been  made  minister  and  secretary  of 
state,  upon  the  credit  of  his  own  importance. 

His  ambition  soaring  still  above  these  high  stations, 
after  having  provided  himself  with  a  great  number 
of  fine  maxims,  and  some  historical  anecdotes,  he 
obtained  an  audience  of  Miss  Stewart,  in  order  to 
display  them;  at  the  same  time  offering  her  his  most 
humble  services,  and  best  advice,  to  assist  her  in  con- 
ducting herself  in  the  situation  to  which  it  had  pleased 
God  and  her  virtue  to  raise  her.  But  he  was  only  in 
the  preface  of  his  speech,  when  she  recollected  that 
he  was  at  the  head  of  those  whom  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham used  to  mimic;  and  as  his  presence  and  his 
language  exactly  revived  the  ridiculous  ideas  that  had 
been  given  her  of  him,  she  could  not  forbear  bursting 
out  into  a  fit  of  laughter  in  his  face,  so  much  the 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  155 

more  violent  as  she  had  for  a  long  time  struggled  to 
suppress  it. 

The  minister  was  enraged :  his  pride  became  his 
post,  and  his  punctilious  behaviour  merited  all  the 
ridicule  which  could  be  attached  to  it.  He  quitted 
her  abruptly,  with  all  the  fine  advice  he  had  prepared 
for  her,  and  was  almost  tempted  to  carry  it  to  Lady 
Castlemaine,  and  to  unite  himself  with  her  interests; 
or  immediately  to  quit  the  Court  party,  and  declaim 
freely  in  Parliament  against  the  grievances  of  the 
State,  and  particularly  to  propose  an  Act  to  forbid  the 
keeping  of  mistresses.  But  his  prudence  conquered 
his  resentments;  and  only  thinking  how  to  enjoy  with 
pleasure  the  blessings  of  fortune,  he  sent  to  Holland 
for  a  wife,82  in  order  to  complete  his  felicity. 

Hamilton83  was,  of  all  the  courtiers,  the  best  quali- 
fied to  succeed  in  an  enterprise  in  which  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  and  Lord  Arlington  had  miscarried.  He 
was  thinking  upon  it;  but  his  natural  coquetry  trav- 
ersed his  intentions,  and  made  him  neglect  the  most 
advantageous  prospects  in  the  world,  in  order  un- 
necessarily to  attend  to  the  advances  and  allurements 
thrown  out  to  him  by  the  Countess  of  Chesterfield. 
This  was  one  of  the  most  agreeable  women  in  the 
world.  She  had  a  most  exquisite  shape,  though  she 
was  not  very  tall.  Her  complexion  was  extremely 
fair,  with  all  the  expressive  charms  of  a  brunette.  She 
had  large  blue  eyes,  very  tempting  and  alluring;  her 
manners  were  engaging ;  her  wit  lively  and  amusing ; 
but  her  heart,  ever  open  to  tender  sentiments,  was 

82  This  lady  was  Isabella,  daughter  to  Lewis  de  Nassau,  Lord 
Beverwaert,  son  to  Maurice,  Prince  of  Orange,  and  Count  Nas- 
sau. Her  daughter  Isabella,  previously  mentioned  (note,  p.  153), 
married,  secondly,  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  Bart.  She  assisted  at 
the  coronation  of  King  George  I.,  as  Countess  of  Arlington,  in 
her  own  right,  and  died  7th  February  1722-3.  Her  portrait,  by 
Kneller,  is  among  the  "Hampton  Court  Beauties." 

83Jam'es  Hamilton. 


156       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

neither  scrupulous  in  point  of  constancy,  nor  nice  in 
point  of  sincerity.  She  was  daughter  to  the  Duke  of 
Ormonde,**  and  Hamilton,  being  her  cousin-german, 
they  might  be  as  much  as  they  pleased  in  each  other's 
company  without  being  particular;  but  as  soon  as  her 
eyes  gave  him  some  encouragement,  he  entertained  no 
other  thoughts  than  how  to  please  her,  without  consid- 
ering her  fickleness,  or  the  obstacles  he  had  to  encoun- 
ter. His  intention,  which  we  mentioned  before,  of 
establishing  himself  in  the  confidence  of  Miss  Stewart 
no  longer  occupied  his  thoughts:  she  now  was  of 
opinion  that  she  was  capable  of  being  the  mistress  of 
her  own  conduct.  She  had  done  all  that  was  necessary 
to  inflame  the  King's  passions,  without  exposing  her 
virtue  by  granting  the  last  favours ;  but  the  eagerness 
of  a  passionate  lover,  blessed  with  favourable  oppor- 
tunities, is  difficult  to  withstand,  and  still  more  difficult 
to  vanquish;  and  Miss  Stewart's  virtue  was  almost 
exhausted,  when  the  Queen  was  attacked  with  a  vio- 
lent fever,  which  soon  reduced  her  to  extreme  danger. 
Then  it  was  that  Miss  Stewart  was  greatly  pleased 
with  herself  for  the  resistance  she  had  made,  though 
she  had  paid  dearly  for  it.  A  thousand  flattering 
hopes  of  greatness  and  glory  filled  her  heart,  and  the 
additional  respect  that  was  universally  paid  her  con- 
tributed not  a  little  to  increase  them.  The  Queen  was 
given  over  by  her  physicians:88  the  few  Portuguese 

"Elizabeth  Butler,  the  second  wife  of  Philip,  second  Earl  of 
Chesterfield,  the  daughter  of  James  Butler,  first  Duke  of  Or- 
monde. She  died  in  July  1665,  aged  twenty-five.  The  portrait  of 
the  Countess  in  Jameson's  Beauties  of  the  Court  of  Charles  II. 
represents  the  Earl's  third  wife,  who  does  not  figure  in  the 
Memoirs. 

wThis  happened  in  October  1663.  Lord  Arlington,  in  a  letter 
to  the  Duke  of  Ormonde,  dated  the  i?th  of  that  month,  says: 
"  The  condition  of  the  Queen  is  much  worse,  and  the  physicians 
give  us  but  little  hopes  of  her  recovery;  by  the  next  you  will  hear 
she  is  either  in  fair  way  to  it,  or  dead :  to-morrow  is  a  very 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  157 

women  that  had  not  been  sent  back  to  their  own  coun- 
try filled  the  Court  with  doleful  cries;  and  the  good 
nature  of  the  King  was  much  affected  with  the  situa- 
tion in  which  he  saw  a  princess,  whom,  though  he  did 
not  love  her,  yet  he  greatly  esteemed.  She  loved  him 
tenderly,  and  thinking  that  it  was  the  last  time  she 
should  ever  speak  to  him,  she  told  him,  that  the  con- 
cern he  showed  for  her  death  was  enough  to  make  her 
quit  life  with  regret;  but  that,  not  possessing  charms 
sufficient  to  merit  his  tenderness,  she  had  at  least  the 
consolation  in  dying  to  give  place  to  a  consort  who 
might  be  more  worthy  of  it,  and  to  whom  heaven,  per- 
haps, might  grant  a  blessing  that  had  been  refused  to 
her.  At  these  words,  she  bathed  his  hands  with  some 
tears,  which  he  thought  would  be  her  last.  He 
mingled  his  own  with  hers;  and  without  supposing 
she  would  take  him  at  his  word,  he  conjured  her  to 
live  for  his  sake.  She  had  never  yet  disobeyed  him; 
and,  however  dangerous  sudden  impulses  may  be, 
when  one  is  between  life  and  death,  this  transport  of 
joy,  which  might  have  proved  fatal  to  her,  saved  her 
life,  and  the  King's  wonderful  tenderness  had  an  effect 
for  which  every  person  did  not  thank  Heaven  in  the 
same  manner. 

critical  day  with  her :  God's  will  be  done.  The  King  is  coming  to 
see  her  this  morning,  she  told  him  she  willingly  left  all  the  world 
but  him;  which  hath  very  much  afflicted  His  Majesty,  and  all 
the  Court  with  him"  (Brown's  Miscellanea  Aulica,  1702,  p.  306). 
"Though  she  has  some  little  respite  from  time  to  time,"  writes 
Comminges  to  King  Louis  (ist  November  1663),  "I  despair  of 
her  recovery.  .  .  .  The  King  seems  to  me  deeply  affected.  Well ! 
he  supped  none  the  less  yesterday  with  Madame  de  Castlemaine, 
and  had  his  usual  talk  with  Mile.  Stewart,  of  whom  he  is  exces- 
sively fond.  There  is  already  a  talk  of  his  marrying  again,  and 
everybody  gives  him  a  new  wife  according  to  his  own  inclination; 
and  there  are  some  who  do  not  look  beyond  England  to  find 
one  for  him"  (see  Jusserand's  French  Ambassador  at  the  Court 
of  Charles  II.  1892,  p.  88;  see  also  Pepys's  Diary,  igth-25th 
October  1663). 


158       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

Jermyn  had  now  for  some  time  been  recovered  of 
his  wounds.  However,  Lady  Castlemaine,  finding  his 
health  in  as  deplorable  a  condition  as  ever,  resolved  to 
regain  the  King's  heart,  but  in  vain ;  for  notwithstand- 
ing the  softness  of  her  tears,  and  the  violence  of  her 
passions,  Miss  Stewart  wholly  possessed  it.  During 
this  period  the  Court  was  variously  entertained :  some- 
times there  were  promenades,  and  at  others  the  Court 
beauties  sallied  out  on  horseback,  and  to  make  attacks 
\vith  their  charms  and  graces,  sometimes  successfully, 
sometimes  otherwise,  but  always  to  the  best  of  their 
abilities38  at  other  seasons  there  were  such  shows  on 
the  river  as  the  city  of  London  alone  can  afford. 

The  Thames  washes  the  sides  of  a  large  though  not 
a  magnificent  palace  of  the  kings  of  Great  Britain.*1 

"On  I3th  July  1663  Pepys  gives  a  vivid  picture  of  the  above. 
"  Hearing  that  the  King  and  Queen  are  rode  abroad  with  the 
Ladies  of  Honour  to  the  Park,  and  seeing  a  great  crowd  of 
gallants  staying  here  to  see  their  return,  I  also  staid  walking  up 
and  down.  By  and  by  the  King  and  Queen,  who  looked  in  this 
dress  (a  white  laced  waistcoat  and  a  crimson  short  pettycoat, 
and  her  hair  dressed  a  la  negligence)  mighty  pretty;  and  the 
King  rode  hand  in  hand  with  her.  Here  was  also  my  Lady 
Castlemaine  rode  among  the  rest  of  the  ladies;  but  the  King 
took,  methought,  no  notice  of  her ;  nor  when  they  'light  did  any- 
body press  (as  she  seemed  to  expect,  and  staid  for  it)  to  take 
her  down,  but  was  taken  down  by  her  own  gentleman.  She 
looked  mighty  out  of  humour,  and  had  a  yellow  plume  in  her 
hat  (which  all  took  notice  of),  and  yet  is  very  handsome,  but 
very  melancholy;  nor  did  anybody  speak  to  her,  or  she  so  much 
as  smile  or  speak  to  anybody.  I  followed  them  up  into  White 
Hall,  and  into  the  Queen's  presence,  where  all  the  ladies  walked, 
talking  and  fiddling  with  their  hats  and  feathers,  and  changing 
and  trying  one  another's  by  one  another's  heads,  and  laughing. 
But  it  was  the  finest  sight  to  me,  considering  their  great  beautys 
and  dress,  that  ever  I  did  see  in  all  my  life.  But  above  all  Mrs. 
Stewart  in  this  dress  with  her  hat  cocked  and  a  red  plume." 

87  The  Palace  of  Whitehall  extended  from  the  Thames  to  St. 
James's  Park,  and  from  old  Scotland  Yard  to  Canon  Row,  West- 
minster, a  public  road  running  through  the  two  gateways,  known 
as  Whitehall  Gate  and  King  Street  Gate,  from  Charing  Cross 
to  Westminster.  The  original  mansion  of  Henry  VIII.'s  time  was 
in  the  style  of  Hampton  Court,  with  a  series  of  galleries  and 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  159 

From  the  stairs  of  this  palace  the  Court  used  to  take 
water  in  the  summer  evenings,  when  the  heat  and  dust 
prevented  their  walking  in  the  park.  An  infinite  num- 
ber of  open  boats,  filled  with  the  Court  and  city  beau- 
ties, attended  the  barges,  in  which  were  the  royal 
family.  Collations,  music,  and  fireworks  completed 
the  scene.  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  always  made 
one  of  the  company,  and  it  was  very  seldom  that  he 
did  not  add  something  of  his  own  invention,  agreea- 
bly to  surprise  by  some  unexpected  stroke  of  mag- 
nificence and  gallantry.  Sometimes  he  had  complete 
concerts  of  vocal  and  instrumental  music,  which  he 
privately  brought  from  Paris,  and  which  struck  up  on 
a  sudden  in  the  midst  of  these  parties;  sometimes  he 
gave  banquets,  which  likewise  came  from  France,  and 
which,  in  the  midst  of  London,  surpassed  the 
King's  collations.  These  entertainments  sometimes 
exceeded,  as  others  fell  short  of  his  expectations,  but 
they  always  cost  him  an  immense  deal  of  money. 

Lord  Falmouth  was  one  of  those  who  had  the 
greatest  friendship  and  esteem  for  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont.  This  profusion  gave  him  concern,  and  as  he 
often  used  to  go  and  sup  with  him  without  ceremony, 

courts,  and  Hall,  Chapel,  Tennis  Court,  Cockpit,  Orchard,  and 
Banqueting  House.  The  last-named  building  is  the  only  portion 
that  was  re-erected,  in  the  reign  of  James  I.,  by  Inigo  Jones,  who 
was  to  have  reconstructed  the  whole  Palace,  but  the  idea  was 
never  carried  out.  This  excepted,  the  whole  was  burned  down 
in  William  III.'s  reign :  first,  by  a  fire  on  loth  April  1691  (when 
all  the  buildings  over  the  Stone  Gallery  to  the  water  side,  in- 
cluding the  more  recently  rebuilt  apartments  of  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth,  at  the  end  of  the  Long  Gallery,  where  the  fire 
originated,  were  destroyed)  ;  and,  secondly,  by  the  greater  fire  of 
4th  January  1697-8,  of  the  various  apartments  Pepys  refers  occa- 
sionally to,  Henry  VIII.'s  Gallery,  the  Boarded  Gallery,  the  Mat- 
ted Gallery,  the  Shield  Gallery,  the  Stone  Gallery,  and  the 
Vane  Room.  There  were  also  the  Guard  Room,  the  Adam  and 
Eve  Gallery.  Fisher's  Ground  Plan  of  about  1670  (not  1680) 
mentions  the  names  of  those  to  whom  the  several  apartments 
were  allotted.  See  Cunningham's  London,  pp.  549-550 


160       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

one  day  finding  only  Saint-Evremond  there,  and  a 
supper  fit  for  half  a  dozen  guests,  who  had  been  in- 
vited in  form:  "You  must  not,"  said  he,  addressing 
himself  to  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  "be  obliged  to 
me  for  this  visit.  I  come  from  the  King's  coucher, 
where  all  the  discourse  was  about  you;  and  I  can 
assure  you  that  the  manner  in  which  the  King  spoke 
of  you,  could  not  afford  you  so  much  pleasure  as  I 
myself  felt  upon  the  occasion.  You  know  very  well, 
that  he  has  long  since  offered  you  his  good  offices 
with  the  King  of  France ;  and  for  my  own  part,"  con- 
tinued he,  smiling,  "you  know  very  well  that  I  would 
solicit  him  so  to  do,  if  it  was  not  through  fear  of 
losing  you  as  soon  as  your  peace  is  made ;  but,  thanks 
to  Miss  Hamilton,  you  are  in  no  great  haste.  However, 
I  am  ordered  by  the  King,  my  master,  to  acquaint  you, 
that,  while  you  remain  here  until  you  are  restored  to 
the  favour  of  your  sovereign,  he  presents  you  with  a 
pension  of  fifteen  hundred  Jacobuses.8*  It  is  indeed  a 
trifle,  considering  the  figure  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
makes  among  us,  but  it  will  assist  him,"  said  he,  em- 
bracing him,  "to  give  us  sometimes  a  supper." 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  received,  as  he  ought, 
the  offer  of  a  favour  he  did  not  think  proper  to  accept 
"I  acknowledge,"  said  he,  "the  King's  bounty  in  this 
proposal,  but  I  am  still  more  sensible  of  Lord  Fal- 
mouth's  generosity  in  it,  and  I  request  him  to  assure 
his  Majesty  of  my  perfect  gratitude.  The  King,  my 
master,  will  not  suffer  me  to  want,  when  he  thinks  fit 
to  recall  me ;  and  while  I  continue  here  I  will  let  you 
see  that  I  have  wherewithal  to  give  my  English 
friends,  now  and  then,  a  supper." 

At  these  words,  he  called  for  his  strong-box,  and 
showed  him  seven  or  eight  thousand  guineas  in  solid 
gold.  Lord  Falmouth,  willing  to  improve  to  the 

"£1875. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  161 

Chevalier's  advantage  the  refusal  of  so  advantageous 
an  offer,  gave  Monsieur  de  Comminges,88  then  Am- 
bassador at  the  English  Court,  an  account  of  it; 
nor  did  Monsieur  de  Comminges  fail  to  represent 
properly  the  merit  of  such  a  refusal  to  the  French 
Court.40 

Hyde  Park,  every  one  knows,  is  the  promenade 
of  London  :41  nothing  was  so  much  in  fashion,  during 
the  fine  weather,  as  that  promenade,  which  was  the 
rendezvous  of  magnificence  and  beauty.  Every  one, 
therefore,  who  had  either  sparkling  eyes,  or  a  splendid 

"Comminges  was  Ambassador  in  London,  from  the  Court  of 
France,  during  the  years  1663,  1664,  and  1665.  Lord  Clarendon, 
sp'eaking  of  him,  describes  him  as  somewhat  capricious  in  his 
nature,  which  made  him  hard  to  treat  with,  and  not  always 
vacant  at  the  hours  himself  assigned ;  being  hypochondriac,  and 
seldom  sleeping  without  opium  (Continuation  of  Clarendon's 
Life,  p.  263). 

"The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,"  writes  Comminges  to  Louis 
XIV.  (ioth-2Oth  December  1663),  "was  delighted  with  the  news 
I  gave  him,  and  repeated  to  me  a  thousand  times  that  he  pre- 
ferred to  serve  Your  Majesty  for  nothing  than  all  the  Kings  in 
the  world  for  all  their  treasures.  He  is  preparing  to  take  his 
leave  of  the  Sovereign  of  Great  Britain,  to  whom  he  is  doubtless 
under  great  obligations  for  the  gracious  manner  in  which  he  has 
been  received  and  treated." 

41 "  I  did  frequently,  in  the  spring,  accompany  my  Lord  N 

into  a  field  near  the  town,  which  they  call  Hyde  Park ;  the  place 
is  not  unpleasant,  and  which  they  use  as  our  course;  but  with 
nothing  of  that  order,  equipage,  and  splendour;  being  such  an 
assembly  of  wretched  jades,  and  hackney  coaches,  as,  next  a 
regiment  of  carmen,  there  is  nothing  approaches  the  resemblance. 
This  park  was  (it  seems)  used  by  the  late  king  and  nobility  for 
the  freshness  of  the  air  and  the  goodly  prospect;  but  it  is  that 
which  now  (besides  all  other  excises)  they  pay  for  here,  in 
England,  though  it  be  free  in  all  the  world  besides ;  every  coach 
and  horse  which  enters  buying  his  mouthful,  and  permission 
of  the  publican  who  has  purchased  it;  for  which  the  entrance 
is  guarded  with  porters  and  long  staves "  (A  Character  of  Eng- 
land, as  it  was  lately  presented  to  a  Nobleman  of  France,  I2mo, 
1659,  p.  54).  Evelyn,  writing  in  April  1653,  says:  "A  fee  of 
a  shilling  was  charged  for  every  coach  and  sixpence  for  every 
horse.  The  Park  became  the  resort  of  fashion  for  drives  and 
promenades  in  Charles  II.'s  reign.  It  was  then  first  walled  in 
with  brick." 


162        THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

equipage,  constantly  repaired  thither;  and  the  King 
seemed  pleased  with  the  place. 

Coaches  with  glasses41  were  then  a  late  invention. 
The  ladies  were  afraid  of  being  shut  up  in  them.  They 
greatly  preferred  the  pleasure  of  showing  almost  their 
whole  persons,  to  the  conveniences  of  modern  coaches. 
That  which  was  made  for  the  King  not  being  remark- 
able for  its  elegance,  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  was 
of  opinion  that  something  ingenious  might  be  in- 
vented, which  should  partake  of  the  ancient  fashion, 
and  likewise  prove  preferable  to  the  modern.  He 
therefore  sent  away  Termes  privately  with  all  the 
necessary  instructions  to  Paris.  The  Duke  of  Guise4* 
was  likewise  charged  with  this  commission;  and  the 
courier,  having  by  the  favour  of  Providence  escaped 
the  quicksand,  in  a  month's  time  brought  safely  over 
to  England  the  most  elegant  and  magnificent  calash 
that  had  ever  been  seen,  which  the  Chevalier  presented 
to  the  King. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  had  given  orders  that 
fifteen  hundred  louis  should  be  expended  upon  it ;  but 
the  Duke  of  Guise,  who  was  his  friend,,  to  oblige  him, 

*"  Coaches  were  first  introduced  into  England  in  the  year  1564. 
Taylor,  the  Water  Poet  (Works,  1630,  p.  240),  says:  "One  Wil- 
liam Boonen,  a  Dutchman,  brought  first  the  use  of  coaches  hither ; 
and  the  said  Boonen,  was  Queen  Elizabeth's  coachman;  for,  in- 
deed, a  coach  was  a  strange  monster  in  those  days,  and  the  sight 
of  them  put  both  horse  and  man  into  amazement."  Dr.  Percy 
observes,  they  were  first  drawn  by  two  horses,  and  that  it  was 
the  favourite  Buckingham  who,  about  1619,  began  to  draw  with 
six  horses.  About  the  same  time,  he  introduced  the  sedan.  The 
Ultintum  Vale  of  John  Carleton,  4to,  1663,  p.  23,  will,  in  a  great 
measure,  ascertain  the  time  of  the  introduction  of  glass  coaches. 
He  says:  "I  could  wish  her  (i.e.  Mary  Carleton's)  coach  (which 
she  said  my  Lord  Taff  bought  for  her  in  England,  and  sent  it 
over  to  her,  made  of  the^  new  fashion,  with  glasse,  very  stately; 
and  her  pages  and  lacquies  were  of  the  same  livery)  was  come 
for  me,"  etc. 

48  Henry  de  Lorraine,  Duke  de  Guise,  Count  d'Eu,  Prince  de 
Joinville,  b.  1614,  ob.  1664. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  163 

laid  out  two  thousand.  All  the  Court  was  in  admira- 
tion at  the  magnificence  of  the  present;  and  the  King, 
charmed  with  the  Chevalier's  attention  to  everything 
which  could  afford  him  pleasure,  failed  not  to  acknowl- 
edge it.  He  would  not,  however,  accept  a  present  of 
so  much  value,  but  upon  condition  that  the  Chevalier 
should  not  refuse  another  from  him. 

The  Queen,  imagining  that  so  splendid  a  carriage 
might  prove  fortunate  for  her,  wished  to  appear  in  it 
first,  with  the  Duchess  of  York.  Lad)'-  Castlemaine, 
who  had  seen  them  in  it,  thinking  that  it  set  off  a  fine 
figure  to  greater  advantage  than  any  other,  desired  the 
King  to  lend  her  this  wonderful  calash  to  appear  in  it 
the  first  fine  day  in  Hyde  Park.  Miss  Stewart  had  the 
same  wish,  and  requested  to  have  it  on  the  same  day. 
As  it  was  impossible  to  reconcile  these  two  goddesses, 
whose  former  union  was  turned  into  mortal  hatred, 
the  King  was  very  much  perplexed. 

The  Queen  Dowager,  who,  though  she  had  no 
share  in  these  broils,  had  no  objection  to  them,  and  as 
usual  being  diverted  with  this  circumstance,  she  took 
occasion  to  joke  with  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  for 
having  thrown  this  bone  of  contention  among  such 
competitors ;  and  did  not  fail  to  give  him,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  whole  Court,  those  praises  which  so  mag- 
nificent a  present  deserved.  "But  how  comes  it,"  said 
she,  "that  you  have  no  equipage  yourself,  although 
you  are  at  so  great  an  expense  ?  for  I  am  told  that  you 
do  not  keep  even  a  single  footman,  and  that  one  of  the 
common  runners  in  the  streets  lights  you  home  with  a 
stinking  link."*  "Madam,"  said  he,  "the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont  hates  pomp:  my  link-boy,  of  whom  you 
speak,  is  faithful  to  my  service;  and  besides,  he  is 

** "  A  street  urchin  lights  you  home  with  one  of  those  pitch 
torches  which  makes  the  whole  town  stink"  (Vizetelly's  trans- 
lation). 

&— Memoirs  Vol.  4 


164       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

one  of  the  bravest  fellows  in  the  world.  Your  Majesty 
is  unacquainted  with  the  nation  of  link-boys:  it  is  a 
charming  one,  I  can  assure  you :  a  man  cannot  step  out 
in  the  night  without  being  surrounded  by  a  dozen  of 
them.  The  first  time  I  became  acquainted  with  them, 
I  retained  all  that  offered  me  their  services;  so  that 
when  I  arrived  at  Whitehall,  I  had  at  least  two  hun- 
dred about  my  chair.  The  sight  was  new;  for  those 
who  had  seen  me  pass  with  this  illumination,  asked 
whose  funeral  it  was.  These  gentlemen,  however, 
began  fighting  about  some  dozen  shillings  I  had 
thrown  among  them  then;  and  he  whom  your  Majesty 
mentions,  having  beaten  three  or  four  of  his  compan- 
ions, I  retained  him  for  his  valour.  As  for  the  parade 
of  coaches  and  footmen,  I  despise  it:  I  have  some- 
times had  five  or  six  valets-de-chambre  at  once,  with- 
out having  a  single  servant  in  livery,  except  my  chap- 
lain Poussatin."  "How!"  said  the  Queen,  bursting 
out  laughing,  "a  chaplain  in  your  livery !  he  surely  was 
not  a  priest?"  "Pardon  me,  madam,"  said  he,  "and 
the  first  priest  in  the  world  for  the  Biscayan  jig." 
"Chevalier,"  said  the  King,  "pray  tell  us  the  history  of 
your  chaplain  Poussatin." 


CHAPTER    VIII 

said  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  "the 
Prince  de  Conde  besieged  Lerida:1  the  place 
in  itself  was  nothing;  but  Don  Gregorio  Brice, 
who  defended  it,  was  something.  He  was  one  of  those 
Spaniards  of  the  old  stamp,  as  valiant  as  the  Cid, 
as  proud  as  all  the  Guzmans  put  together,  and  more 
gallant  than  all  the  Abencerrages  of  Grenada.  He 
suffered  us  to  make  our  first  approaches  to  the  place 
without  the  least  molestation.  The  Marshal  de  Gra- 
mont*— whose  maxim  it  was  that  a  governor  who  at 
first  makes  a  great  blustering,  and  burns  his  suburbs 
in  order  to  make  a  noble  defence,  generally  makes  a 
very  bad  one — looked  upon  Gregorio  de  Brice's  polite- 
ness as  no  good  omen  for  us ;  but  the  Prince,  covered 
with  glory,  and  elated  with  the  campaigns  of  Rocroi, 
Nordlingen,  and  Fribourg,  to  insult  both  the  place  and 
the  governor,  ordered  the  trenches  to  be  mounted  at 
noon-day  by  his  own  regiment,  at  the  head  of  which 
marched  four-and-twenty  fiddlers,  as  if  it  had  been  to 
a  wedding. 

"Night  approaching,  we  were  all  in  high  spirits: 
our  violins  were  playing  soft  airs,  and  we  were  com- 

*This  was  in  1647.  Voltaire  says:  "He,  Conde,  was  accused, 
upon  this  occasion,  in  certain  books,  of  a  bravado,  in  haying 
opened  the  trenches  to  the  music  of  violins;  but  these  writers 
were  ignorant  that  this  was  the  custom  of  Spain  "  (Age  of  Louis 
XIV.  chap.  ii.). 

'Anthony,  Marechal  of  France.  He  appears  to  have  quitted 
the  army  in  1672.  "  Le  Due  de  la  Feuillade  est  colonel  du  regi- 
ment des  gardes  sur  la  demission  volontaire  du  Marechal  de 
Gramont "  (Renault's  History  of  France).  He  died  1678. 

1 65 


166       THE    COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

fortably  regaling  ourselves.  God  knows  how  we  were 
joking  about  the  poor  governor  and  his  fortifications, 
both  of  which  we  promised  ourselves  to  take  in  less 
than  twenty-four  hours.  This  was  going  on  in  the 
trenches,  when  we  heard  an  ominous  cry  from  the 
ramparts,  repeated  two  or  three  times,  of  'Alert  on 
the  walls!'  This  cry  was  followed  by  a  discharge  of 
cannon  and  musketry,  and  this  discharge  by  a  vigor- 
ous sally,  which,  after  having  rilled  up  the  trenches, 
pursued  us  as  far  as  our  grand  guard. 

"The  next  day  Gregorio  Brice  sent  by  a  trumpet  a 
present  of  ice  and  fruit  to  the  Prince  de  Conde, 
humbly  beseeching  his  Highness  to  excuse  his  not  re- 
turning the  serenade  which  he  was  pleased  to  favour 
him  with,  as  unfortunately  he  had  no  violins ;  but  that 
if  the  music  of  last  night  was  not  disagreeable  to  him, 
he  would  endeavour  to  continue  it  as  long  as  he  did 
him  the  honour  to  remain  before  the  place.  The 
Spaniard  was  as  good  as  his  word ;  and  as  soon  as  we 
heard,  'Alert  on  the  walls/  we  were  sure  of  a  sally, 
that  cleared  our  trenches,  destroyed  our  works,  and 
killed  the  best  of  our  officers  and  soldiers.  The  Prince 
was  so  piqued  at  it,  that,  contrary  to  the  opinion  of 
the  general  officers,  he  obstinately  persisted  in  carry- 
ing on  a  siege  which  was  like  to  ruin  his  army,  and 
which  he  was  at  last  forced  to  quit  in  a  hurry. 

"As  our  troops  were  retiring,  Don  Gregorio,  far 
from  giving  himself  those  airs  which  governors  gen- 
erally do  on  such  occasions,  made  no  other  sally  than 
sending  a  respectful  compliment  to  the  Prince.  Signor 
Brice  set  out  not  long  after  for  Madrid,  to  give  an 
account  of  his  conduct,  and  to  receive  the  recom- 
pense he  had  merited.  Your  Majesty  perhaps  will  be 
desirous  to  know  what  reception  poor  Brice  met  with, 
after  having  performed  the  most  brilliant  action  the 
'Emptied  (Vizetelly's  translation). 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  167 

Spaniards  could  boast  of  in  all  the  war — he  was  con- 
fined by  the  Inquisition." 

"How!"  said  the  Queen  Dowager,  "confined  by 
the  Inquisition  for  his  services !"  "Not  altogether  for 
his  services,"  said  the  Chevalier;  "but  without  any 
regard  to  his  services,  he  was  treated  in  the  manner  I 
have  mentioned  for  a  little  affair  of  gallantry,  which 
I  shall  relate  to  the  King  presently. 

"The  campaign  of  Catalonia  being  thus  ended,  we 
were  returning  home,  not  overloaded  with  laurels ;  but 
as  the  Prince  de  Conde  had  laid  up  a  great  store  on 
former  occasions,  and  as  he  had  still  great  projects  in 
his  head,  he  soon  forgot  this  trifling  misfortune.  We 
did  nothing  but  joke  with  one  another  during  the 
march,  and  the  Prince  was  the  first  to  ridicule  the 
siege.  We  made  some  of  those  rhymes  on  Lerida, 
which  were  sung  all  over  France,  in  order  to  prevent 
others  more  severe;  however,  we  gained  nothing  by 
it,  for  notwithstanding  we  treated  ourselves  freely 
in  our  own  ballads,  others  were  composed  in  Paris 
in  which  we  were  ten  times  more  severely  handled. 
At  last  we  arrived  at  Perpignan  upon  a  holiday:  a 
company  of  Catalans,  who  were  dancing  in  the  middle 
of  the  street,  out  of  respect  to  the  Prince  came  to 
dance  under  his  windows.  Monsieur  Poussatin,  in  a 
little  black  jacket,  danced  in  the  middle  of  this  com- 
pany, as  if  he  was  really  mad.  I  immediately  recog- 
nised him  for  my  countryman,  from  his  manner  of 
skipping  and  frisking  about.  The  Prince  was  charmed 
with  his  humour  and  activity.  After  the  dance,  I  sent 
for  him,  and  inquired  who  he  was.  *A  poor  priest,  at 
your  service,  my  lord,'  said  he:  'my  name  is  Poussatin, 
and  Beam  is  my  native  country.  I  was  going  into 
Catalonia  to  serve  in  the  infantry,  for,  God  be  praised, 
I  can  march  very  well  on  foot;  but  since  the  war  is 
happily  concluded,  if  your  lordship  pleases  to  take  me 


168       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

into  your  service,  I  would  follow  you  everywhere,  and 
serve  you  faithfully/  'Monsieur  Poussatin,'  said  I, 
'my  lordship  has  no  great  occasion  for  a  chaplain; 
but  since  you  are  so  well  disposed  towards  me,  I  will 
take  you  into  my  service.' 

"The  Prince  de  Conde,  who  was  present  at  this 
conversation,  was  overjoyed  at  my  having  a  chaplain. 
As  poor  Poussatin  was  in  a  very  tattered  condition,  I 
had  no  time  to  provide  him  with  a  proper  habit  at 
Perpignan;  but  giving  him  a  spare  livery  of  one  of 
the  Marshal  de  Gramont's  servants,  I  made  him  get  up 
behind  the  Prince's  coach,  who  was  like  to  die  with 
laughing  every  time  he  looked  at  poor  Poussatin's 
uncanonical  mien  in  a  yellow  livery. 

"As  soon  as  we  arrived  at  Paris,  the  story  was  told 
to  the  Queen,  who  at  first  expressed  some  surprise  at 
it  This,  however,  did  not  prevent  her  from  wishing 
to  see  my  chaplain  dance ;  for  in  Spain  it  is  not  alto- 
gether so  strange  to  see  ecclesiastics  dance,  as  to  see 
them  in  livery. 

"Poussatin  performed  wonders  before  the  Queen; 
but  as  he  danced  with  great  sprightliness,  she  could 
not  bear  the  odour  which  his  violent  motions  diffused 
around  her  room.  The  ladies  likewise  began  to  pray 
for  relief;  for  he  had  almost  entirely  got  the  better 
of  all  the  perfumes  and  essences  with  which  they  were 
fortified.  Poussatin,  nevertheless,  retired  with  a  great 
deal  of  applause,  and  some  louis  d'or. 

"Some  time  afterwards  I  procured  a  small  benefice 
in  the  country  for  my  chaplain,  and  I  have  since  been 
informed  that  Poussatin  preached  with  the  same  ease 
in  his  village  as  he  danced  at  the  wedding  of  his 
parishioners." 

The  King  was  exceedingly  diverted  at  Poussatin's 
history ;  and  the  Queen  was  not  much  hurt  at  his  hav- 
ing been  put  in  livery.  The  treatment  of  Gregorio 


COUNT  DE  GRAMONT  169 

Brice  offended  her  far  more;  and  being  desirous  to 
justify  the  Court  of  Spain,  with  respect  to  so  cruel  a 
proceeding:  "Chevalier  de  Gramont,"  said  she,  "what 
heresy  did  Governor  Brice  wish  to  introduce  into  the 
state?  What  crime  against  religion  was  he  charged 
with,  that  he  was  confined  in  the  Inquisition?" 
"Madam,"  said  he,  "the  history  is  not  very  proper  to 
be  related  before  your  Majesty :  it  was  a  little  amorous 
frolic,  ill-timed  indeed;  but  poor  Brice  meant  no 
harm :  a  school-boy  would  not  have  been  whipped  for 
such  a  fault,  in  the  most  severe  college  in  France;  as 
it  was  only  for  giving  some  proofs  of  his  affection 
to  a  young  Spanish  fair  one,  who  had  fixed  her  eyes 
upon  him  on  a  solemn  occasion." 

The  King  desired  to  know  the  particulars  of  the 
adventure;  and  the  Chevalier  gratified  his  curiosity,  as 
soon  as  the  Queen  and  the  rest  of -the  Court  were  out 
of  hearing.  It  was  very  entertaining  to  hear  him  tell 
a  story;  but  it  was  very  disagreeable  to  differ  with 
him,  either  in  competition,  or  in  raillery.  It  is  true 
that  at  that  time  there  were  few  persons  at  the  En- 
glish Court  who  had  merited  his  indignation.  Rus- 
sell was  sometimes  the  subject  of  his  ridicule,  but 
he  treated  him  far  more  tenderly  than  he  usually  did 
a  rival. 

This  Russell  was  one  of  the  most  famous  dancers 
in  all  England,  I  mean,  for  country  dances.  He  had  a 
collection  of  two  or  three  hundred  in  print,  all  of  which 
he  danced  at  sight;  and  to  prove  that  he  was  not  an 
old  man,  he  sometimes  danced  until  he  was  almost 
exhausted.  His  mode  of  dancing  was  like  that  of  his 
clothes,  for  they  both  had  been  out  of  fashion  full 
twenty  years. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  was  very  sensible  that 
he  was  very  much  in  love;  but  though  he  saw  very 
well  that  it  only  rendered  him  more  ridiculous,  yet  he 


170       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

felt  some  concern  at  the  information  he  received,  of  his 
intention  of  demanding  Miss  Hamilton  in  marriage; 
but  his  concern  did  not  last  long. 

Russell,  being  upon  the  point  of  setting  out  on  a 
journey,  thought  it  was  proper  to  acquaint  his  mistress 
with  his  intentions  before  his  departure.  The  Chev- 
alier de  Gramont  was  a  great  obstacle  to  the  interview 
he  was  desirous  of  obtaining  of  her;  but  being  one 
day  sent  for,  to  go  and  play  at  Lady  Castlemaine's, 
Russell  seized  the  opportunity,  and  addressing  himself 
to  Miss  Hamilton  with  less  embarrassment  than  is 
usual  on  such  occasions,  he  made  his  declaration  to  her 
in  the  following  manner :  "I  am  brother  to  the  Earl  of 
Bedford :  I  command  the  regiment  of  guards :  I  have 
three  thousand  pounds*  a  year,  and  fifteen  thousand 
in  ready  money :  all  which,  madam,  I  come  to  present 
to  you,  along  with  my  person.  One  present,  I  agree, 
is  not  worth  much  without  the  other,  and  therefore  I 
put  them  together.  I  am  advised  to  go  to  some  of  the 
watering-places  for  something  of  an  asthma,  which, 
in  all  probability,  cannot  continue  much  longer,  as  I 
have  had  it  for  these  last  twenty  years.  If  you  look 
upon  me  as  worthy  of  the  happiness  of  belonging  to 
you,  I  shall  propose  it  to  your  father,  to  whom  I  did 
not  think  it  right  to  apply  before  I  was  acquainted  with 
your  sentiments.  My  nephew  William  is  at  present 
entirely  ignorant  of  my  intention;  but  I  believe  he 
will  not  be  sorry  for  it,  though  he  will  thereby  see 
himself  deprived  of  a  pretty  considerable  estate;  for 
he  has  great  affection  for  me,  and  besides,  he  has  a 
pleasure  in  paying  his  respects  to  you  since  he  has 
perceived  my  attachment.  I  am  very  much  pleased 
that  he  should  make  his  court  to  me,  by  the  attention 
he  pays  to  you;  for  he  did  nothing  but  squander  his 
money  upon  that  coquette  Middleton,  while  at  present 
**  Jacobuses  "  (Vizetel1y*s  translation). 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  171 

he  is  at  no  expense,  though  he  frequents  the  best  com- 
pany in  England." 

Miss  Hamilton  had  much  difficulty  to  suppress  her 
laughter  during  this  harangue.  However,  she  told 
him  that  she  thought  herself  much  honoured  by  his 
intentions  towards  her,  and  still  more  obliged  to  him 
for  consulting  her,  before  he  made  any  overtures  to 
her  relations.  "It  will  be  time  enough,"  said  she,  "to 
speak  to  them  upon  the  subject  at  your  return  from 
the  waters ;  for  I  do  not  think  It  is  at  all  probable  that 
they  will  dispose  of  me  before  that  time,  and  in  case 
they  should  be  urgent  in  their  solicitations,  your 
nephew  William  will  take  care  to  acquaint  you ;  there- 
fore, you  may  set  out  whenever  you  think  proper; 
but  take  care  not  to  injure  your  health  by  returning 
too  soon." 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  having  heard  the  par- 
ticulars of  this  conversation,  endeavoured,  as  well  as 
he  could,  to  be  entertained  with  it ;  though  there  were 
certain  tircumstances  in  the  declaration,  notwithstand- 
ing the  absurdity  of  others,  which  did  not  fail  to  give 
him  some  uneasiness.  Upon  the  whole,  he  was  not 
sorry  for  Russell's  departure ;  and,  assuming  an  air  of 
pleasantry,  he  went  to  relate  to  the  King  how  Heaven 
had  favoured  him  by  delivering  him  from  so  dan- 
gerous a  rival.  "He  is  gone  then,  Chevalier?"  said 
the  King.  "Certainly,  sire,"  said  he ;  "I  had  the  honour 
to  see  him  embark  in  a  coach,  with  his  asthma,  and 
country  equipage,  his  perruque  a  calotte,  neatly  tied 
with  a  yellow  riband,  and  his  old-fashioned  hat  cov- 
ered with  oil-skin,  which  becomes  him  uncommonly 
well.  Therefore  I  have  only  to  contend  with  William 
Russell,  whom  he  leaves  as  his  resident  with  Miss 
Hamilton ;  and  as  for  him,  I  neither  fear  him  upon  his 
own  account,  nor  his  ftncle's,"  he  is  too  much  in  love 
himself  to  pay  attention  to  the  interests  of  another; 


172       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

and  as  he  has  but  one  method  of  promoting  his  own, 
which  is  by  sacrificing  the  portrait,  or  some  love-letters 
of  Mrs.  Middleton,  I  have  it  easily  in  my  power  to 
counteract  him  in  such  kind  of  favours,  though  I 
confess  I  have  pretty  well  paid  for  them." 

"Since  your  affairs  proceed  so  prosperously  with  the 
Russells,"  said  the  King,  "I  will  acquaint  you  that  you 
are  delivered  from  another  rival,  much  more  danger- 
ous, if  he  were  not  already  married :  my  brother  has 
lately  fallen  in  love  with  Lady  Chesterfield."  "How 
many  blessings  at  once!"  exclaimed  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont.  "I  have  so  many  obligations  to  him  for  this 
inconstancy,  that  I  would  willingly  serve  him  in  his 
new  amour,  if  Hamilton  was  not  his  rival:  nor  will 
your  Majesty  take  it  ill,  if  I  promote  the  interests  of 
my  mistress's  brother,  rather  than  those  of  your  Ma- 
jesty's brother."  "Hamilton,  however,"  said  the  King, 
"does  not  stand  so  much  in  need  of  assistance,  in 
affairs  of  this  nature,  as  the  Duke  of  York ;  but  I  know 
Lord  Chesterfield  is  of  such  a  disposition,  that  he  will 
not  suffer  men  to  quarrel  about  his  wife  with  the  same 
patience  as  the  complaisant  Shrewsbury;  though  he 
well  deserves  the  same  fate."  Here  follows  a  true 
description  of  Lord  Chesterfield.8 

8  Philip  Stanhope,  second  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  born  1633,  suc- 
ceeded to  the  earldom  in  1656.  He  was  committed  to  the  Tower 
in  1658-9  for  duelling  and  on  suspect  of  being  implicated  in  Sir 
George  Booth's  royalist  rising.  He  fled  to  France,  I7th  January 
1660,  for  killing  an  adversary  in  a  duel.  The  same  year  he  mar- 
ried Lady  Elizabeth  Butler,  who  figures  in  Gramont's  Memoirs. 
His  first  wife,  Lady  Anne  Percy,  daughter  of  Algernon,  Earl  of 
Northumberland,  died  in  1653.  In  July  1665  he  again  became  a 
widower,  and  married,  four  years  later,  Lady  Elizabeth  Dormer, 
daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Carnarvon,  by  whom  he  had  two  sons 
and  two  daughters.  (His  daughter  by  his  second  wife  married 
Lord  Lyon,  Earl  of  Strathmore.)  The  Earl  of  Chesterfield  ac- 
companied Charles  II.  to  Dover  at  the  Restoration  and  was  ap- 
pointed Lord  Chamberlain  to  the  Queen  in  1662.  He  succeeded 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth  in  1679  as  Lord  Warden  of  the  King's 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  173 

He  had  a  very  agreeable  face,  a  fine  head  of  hair,  an 
indifferent  shape,  and  a  worse  air;  he  was  not,  how- 
ever, deficient  in  wit.  A  long  residence  in  Italy  had 
made  him  ceremonious  in  his  commerce  with  men,  and 
jealous  in  his  connection  with  women.  He  had  been 
much  hated  by  the  King,  because  he  had  been  much 
beloved  by  Lady  Castlemaine.  It  was  reported  that 
he  had  been  in  her  good  graces  prior  to  her  marriage ; 
and  as  neither  of  them  denied  it,  it  was  the  more  gen- 
erally believed. 

He  had  paid  his  devoirs  to  the  eldest  daughter  of 
the  Duke  of  Ormonde,  while  his  heart  was  still  taken 
up  with  his  former  passion.  The  King's  love  for 
Lady  Castlemaine,  and  the  advancement  he  expected 
from  such  an  alliance,  made  him  press  the  match  with 
as  much  ardour  as  if  he  had  been  passionately  in  love. 
He  had  therefore  married  Lady  Chesterfield  without 
loving  her,  and  had  lived  some  time  with  her  in  such 
coolness  as  to  leave  her  no  room  to  doubt  of  his  in- 
difference. As  she  was  endowed  with  great  sensibility 
and  delicacy,  she  suffered  at  this  contempt.  She  was 
at  first  much  affected  with  his  behaviour,  and  after- 
wards enraged  at  it;  and,  when  he  began  to  give  her 
proofs  of  his  affection,  she  had  the  pleasure  of  con- 
vincing him  of  her  indifference. 

They  were  upon  this  footing,  when  she  resolved  to 
cure  Hamilton,  as  she  had  lately  done  her  husband,  of 

Forests  South  of  the  Trent,  and  in  1680  was  admitted  into  the  Privy 
Council  in  acknowledgment  of  his  opposing  the  Bill  of  Exclusion. 
Throughout  his  life  the  Earl  was  a  staunch  Royalist,  and  reso- 
lutely refused  any  appointments  under  William  of  Orange.  After 
the  abdication  of  James  II.  he  lived  peacefully  in  retirement  at 
his  newly  'erected  house  at  Bretby  in  Derbyshire,  and  died  at 
his  house  in  Bloomsbury  Square  in  1713.  In  his  earlier  days 
Chesterfield  was  a  notorious  rake.  Sufficient  evidence  of  his  gal- 
lantries may  be  found  in  his  Letter  Book,  which  was  acquired 
by  the  British  Museum  in  1852.  The  Earl's  memoirs,  with  his 
correspondence,  were  published  in  1829. 


174       THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

all  his  remaining  tenderness  for  Lady  Castlemaine. 
For  her  it  was  no  difficult  undertaking.  The  con- 
versation of  the  one  was  disagreeable,  from  the  unpol- 
ished state  of  her  manners,  her  ill-timed  pride,  her 
uneven  temper,  and  extravagant  humours.  Lady  Ches- 
terfield, on  the  contrary,  knew  how  to  heighten  her 
charms  with  all  the  bewitching  attractions  in  the  power 
of  a  woman  to  invent,  who  wishes  to  make  a  conquest. 

Besides  all  this,  she  had  greater  opportunities  of 
making  advances  to  him  than  to  any  other.  She  lived 
at  the  Duke  of  Ormonde's,  at  Whitehall,  where  Ham- 
ilton, as  was  said  before,  had  free  admittance  at  all 
hours.  Her  extreme  coldness,  or  rather  the  disgust 
which  she  showed  for  her  husband's  returning  affec- 
tion, wakened  his  natural  inclination  to  jealousy;  he 
suspected  that  she  could  not  so  very  suddenly  pass 
from  anxiety  to  indifference  for  him,  without  some 
secret  object  of  a  new  attachment;  and  according  to 
the  maxim  of  all  jealous  husbands,  he  immediately 
put  in  practice  all  his  experience  and  industry,  in  order 
to  make  a  discovery,  which  was  to  destroy  his  own 
happiness. 

Hamilton,  who  knew  his  disposition,  was,  on  the 
other  hand,  upon  his  guard,  and  the  more  he  advanced 
in  his  intrigue,  the  more  attentive  was  he  to  remove 
every  degree  of  suspicion  from  the  Earl's  mind.  He 
pretended  to  make  him  his  confidant,  in  the  most  un- 
guarded and  open  manner,  of  his  passion  for  Lady 
Castlemaine:7  he  complained  of  her  caprice,  and  most 
earnestly  desired  his  advice  how  to  succeed  with  a 
person  whose  affections  he  alone  had  entirely  possessed. 

Chesterfield,  who  was  flattered  with  this  discourse, 

promised  him  his  protection  with  greater  sincerity  than 

it  had  been  demanded.     Hamilton,  therefore,  was  no 

further  embarrassed  than  to  preserve  Lady  Chester- 

f  See  Pepys's  Diary,  aoth  January  1663-4. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  175 

field's  reputation,  who,  in  his  opinion,  declared  herself 
rather  too  openly  in  his  favour;  but  whilst  he  was 
diligently  employed  in  regulating,  within  the  rules  of 
discretion,  the  partiality  she  expressed  for  him,  and 
in  conjuring  her  to  restrain  her  glances  within  bounds, 
she  was  receiving  those  of  the  Duke  of  York,  and, 
what  is  more,  made  them  favourable  returns. 

He  thought  that  he  had  perceived  it,  as  well  as 
every  one  besides;  but  he  thought  likewise,  that  all 
the  world  was  deceived  as  well  as  himself :  how  could 
he  trust  his  own  eyes,  as  to  what  those  of  Lady 
Chesterfield  betrayed  for  this  new  rival?  He  could 
not  think  it  probable  that  a  woman  of  her  disposition 
could  relish  a  man  whose  manners  had  a  thousand 
times  been  the  subject  of  their  private  ridicule;  but 
what  he  judged  still  more  improbable  was  that  she 
should  begin  another  intrigue  before  she  had  given  the 
finishing  stroke  to  that  in  which  her  own  advances 
had  engaged  her.  However,  he  began  to  observe  her 
with  more  circumspection,  when  he  found  by  his  dis- 
coveries, that  if  she  did  not  deceive  him,  at  least  the 
desire  of  doing  so  was  not  wanting.  This  he  took 
the  liberty  of  telling  her  of;  but  she  answered  him 
in  so  high  a  strain,  and  treated  what  he  said  so  much 
like  a  phantom  of  his  own  imagination,  that  he  ap- 
peared confused  without  being  convinced.  All  the 
satisfaction  he  could  procure  from  her,  was  her  tell- 
ing him,  in  a  haughty  manner,  that  such  unjust  re- 
proaches as  his  ought  to  have  had  a  better  foundation. 

Lord  Chesterfield  had  taken  the  same  alarm;  and 
being  convinced,  from  the  observations  he  had  made 
that  he  had  found  out  the  happy  lover  who  had  gained 
possession  of  his  lady's  heart,  he  was  satisfied;  and 
without  teasing  her  with  unnecessary  reproaches,  he 
only  waited  for  an  opportunity  to  confound  her,  before 
he  took  his  measures. 


176       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

After  all,  how  can  we  account  for  Lady  Chester- 
field's conduct,  unless  we  attribute  it  to  the  disease 
incident  to  most  coquettes,  who,  charmed  with  supe- 
riority, put  in  practice  every  art  to  rob  another  of 
her  conquest,  and  spare  nothing  to  preserve  it. 

But  before  we  enter  into  the  particulars  of  this 
adventure,  let  us  take  a  retrospect  of  the  amours  of 
his  Royal  Highness,  prior  to  the  declaration  of  his 
marriage,  and  particularly  of  what  immediately  pre- 
ceded this  declaration.  It  is  allowable  sometimes  to 
drop  the  thread  of  a  narrative,  when  real  facts,  not 
generally  known,  give  such  a  variety  upon  the  digres- 
sion as  to  render  it  excusable.  Let  us  see  then  how 
those  things  happened. 

The  Duke  of  York's  marriage,*  with  the  Chancel- 
lor's daughter,  was  deficient  in  none  of  those  circum- 
stances which  render  contracts  of  this  nature  valid  in 
the  eye  of  Heaven :  the  mutual  inclination,  the  formal 
ceremony,  witnesses,  and  every  essential  point  of 
matrimony,  had  been  observed. 

Though  the  bride  was  no  perfect  beauty,  yet,  as 
there  were  none  at  the  Court  of  Holland  who  eclipsed 
her,  the  Duke,  during  the  first  endearments  of  matri- 
mony, was  so  far  from  repenting  of  it,  that  he  seemed 
only  to  wish  for  the  King's  restoration  that  he  might 
have  an  opportunity  of  declaring  it  with  splendour; 
but  when  he  saw  himself  enjoying  a  rank  which  placed 
him  so  near  the  throne ;  when  the  possession  of  Miss 
Hyde  afforded  him  no  new  charms;  when  England, 
so  abounding  in  beauties,  displayed  all  that  was  charm- 
ing and  lovely  in  the  Court  of  the  King  his  brother; 
and  when  he  considered  he  was  the  only  prince,  who, 

8  The  material  facts  in  this  narrative  are  confirmed  by  Lord 
Oarendon  (Continuation  of  his  Life,  p.  33).  It  is  difficult  to 
speak  of  the  persons  concerned  in  this  infamous  transaction  with- 
out some  degree  of  asperity,  notwithstanding  they  are,  by  a 
strange  perversion  of  language,  styled,  all  men  of  honour. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  177 

from  such  superior  elevation,  had  descended  so  low, 
he  began  to  reflect  upon  it.  On  the  one  hand,  his 
marriage  appeared  to  him  particularly  ill  suited  in 
every  respect.  He  recollected  that  Jermyn  had  not 
engaged  him  in  an  intimacy  with  Miss  Hyde,  until 
he  had  convinced  him,  by  several  different  circum- 
stances, of  the  facility  of  succeeding.  He  looked  upon 
his  marriage  as  an  infringement  of  that  duty  and 
obedience  he  owed  to  the  King;  the  indignation  with 
which  the  Court,  and  even  the  whole  kingdom,  would 
receive  the  account  of  his  marriage  presented  itself 
to  his  imagination,  together  with  the  impossibility  of 
obtaining  the  King's  consent  to  such  an  act,  which 
for  a  thousand  reasons  he  would  be  obliged  to  refuse. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  tears  and  despair  of  poor  Miss 
Hyde  presented  themselves;  and  still  more  than  that, 
he  felt  a  remorse  of  conscience,  the  scruples  of  which 
began  from  that  time  to  rise  up  against  him. 

In  the  midst  of  this  perplexity  he  opened  his  heart 
to  Lord  Falmouth,  and  consulted  with  him  what 
method  he  ought  to  pursue.  He  could  not  have  applied 
to  a  better  man  for  his  own  interests,  nor  to  a  worse 
for  Miss  Hyde's;  for  at  first  Falmouth  maintained 
not  only  that  he  was  not  married,  but  that  it  was  even 
impossible  that  he  could  ever  have  formed  such  a 
thought ;  that  any  marriage  was  invalid  for  him,  which 
was  made  without  the  King's  consent,  even  if  the 
party  was  a  suitable  match;  but  that  it  was  a  mere 
jest,  even  to  think  of  the  daughter  of  an  insignificant 
lawyer,  whom  the  favour  of  his  sovereign  had  lately 
made  a  peer  of  the  realm,  without  any  noble  blood, 
and  chancellor,  without  any  capacity;  that  as  for  his 
scruples,  he  had  only  to  give  ear  to  some  gentlemen 
whom  he  could  introduce,  who  would  thoroughly  in- 
form him  of  Miss  Hyde's  conduct  before  he  became 
acquainted  with  her;  and  provided  he  did  not  tell 


178       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

them  that  he  really  was  married,  he  would  soon  have 
sufficient  grounds  to  come  to  a  determination. 

The  Duke  of  York  consented,  and  Lord  Falmouth, 
having  assembled  both  his  council  and  his  witnesses, 
conducted  them  to  his  Royal  Highness's  cabinet,  after 
having  instructed  them  how  to  act.  These  gentlemen 
were  the  Earl  of  Arran,  Jermyn,  Talbot,  and  Kille- 
grew,*  all  men  of  honour ;  but  who  infinitely  preferred 

8  Henry  or  "  Harry  "  Killigrew,  eldest  son  of  Thomas  Killigrew, 
by  Cecilia  Crofts,  daughter  of  Sir  John  Crofts  (Maid  of  Honour 
to  Queen  Henrietta  Maria),  the  court  wit  and  dramatic  author, 
Groom  of  the  Bedchamber  to  the  Duke  of  York,  and  afterwards 
to  Charles  II.,  whom  he  attended  the  night  before  the  fatal  apo- 
plectic seizure  (vide  King  Monmouth).  Both  he  and  his  brother 
Charles  (born  December  1655)  succeeded  their  father  as  Master 
of  the  Revels.  Henry  Killigrew  was  born  gth  April  1637.  He 
married,  in  1662,  Lady  Mary  Savage,  daughter  of  John,  second 
Earl  Rivers  of  Rock  Savage,  Cheshire  (Maid  of  the  Privy  Cham- 
ber to  the  Queen).  Pepys  describes  him  as  one  of  the  most 
notorious  rogues  in  town,  and  the  King,  writing  to  his  sister 
Henrietta  (i7th  October  1668),  warns  her  to  "believe  not  one 
word  he  sayes  of  us  heere,  for  he  is  a  most  notorious  lyar  and 
do'es  not  want  witt  to  sett  forth  his  storyes  pleasantly  enough  " 
(Madame,  by  Julia  Cartwright,  pp.  273-274).  One  of  these 
stories  procured  his  disgrace  at  Court,  in  October  1666.  He  was 
banished  for  "  raw  words  spoken  against  a  lady  of  pleasure " 
(Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.  p.  485.  See  also  Pepys's  Diary, 
2ist  October  1666.  In  the  Verney  Papers  of  ipth  March  1667-8 
a  story  is  current  of  Killigrew  opiating  a  mother  and  daughter 
and  ravishing  the  latter  for  which  he  was  condemned  to  be 
hanged,  but  by  the  intercession  of  the  Queen  Mother,  and 
Madame  (Duchess  of  Orleans),  it  was  altered  to  banishment, 
evidently  to  France,  for  we  find  him  returning  to  England  with 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth  shortly  afterwards,  though  not  to  favour 
at  Court.  Pepys  encountered  him  among  some  boon  companions 
at  Fox  Hall,  30th  May  1668,  "ready  to  take  hold  of  every  woman 
that  came  by  them" — "their  mad  bawdy  talk  did  make  my 
heart  ake." 

A  fray  between  Buckingham  and  Killigrew  in  the  Duke's  The- 
atre on  the  20th  July  1667  is  mentioned  by  Pepys  on  the  22nd; 
"The  Duke  of  Buckingham  did  soundly  beat  and  take  away 
his  sword,  and  make  a  fool  of,  till  the  fellow  prayed  him  to 
spare  his  life."  Further  particulars  appear  in  the  Verney  MSS. 
"  H.  Killigrew  being  in  the  next  box  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham 
at  a  play,  drolled  with  him  and  made  fun  at  him,  and  spake 
scurry  language  at  him,  insomuch  that  the  Duke  told  him  he  might 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  179 

the  Duke  of  York's  interest  to  Miss  Hyde's  reputation, 
and  who,  besides,  were  greatly  dissatisfied,  as  well  as 
the  whole  Court,  at  the  insolent  authority  of  the 
Prime  Minister. 

The  Duke  having  told  them,  after  a  sort  of  pream- 
ble, that  although  they  could  not  be  ignorant  of  his  af- 
fection for  Miss  Hyde,  yet  they  might  be  unacquainted 
with  the  engagements  his  tenderness  for  her  had 
induced  him  to  contract;  that  he  thought  himself 
obliged  to  perform  all  the  promises  he  had  made  her; 
but  as  the  innocence  of  persons  of  her  age  was  gener- 
ally exposed  to  Court  scandal,  and  as  certain  reports, 
whether  false  or  true,  had  been  spread  abroad  on  the 
subject  of  her  conduct,  he  conjured  them  as  his  friends, 
and  charged  them  upon  their  duty,  to  tell  him  sincerely 
everything  they  knew  upon  the  subject,  since  he  was 
resolved  to  make  their  evidence  the  rule  of  his  conduct 
towards  her.  They  all  appeared  rather  reserved  at 
first,  and  seemed  not  to  dare  to  give  their  opinions 
upon  an  affair  of  so  serious  and  delicate  a  nature ;  but 
the  Duke  of  York  having  renewed  his  entreaties,  each 

govern  his  tongue  and  his  face  better.  Killigrew  went  put  of  the 
box  and  would  have  had  one  Vaughan  to  have  carried  him  a 
challenge,  but  he  refusing  to  do  it  in  that  place,  he  returned  and 
stroke  the  Duke  twice  on  the  head  with  his  sword  in  the  scab- 
bard, and  then  ran  away  most  nobly  over  the  boxes  and  forms, 
and  the  Duke  after  him,  and  cut  him  well  favouredly,  he  crying, 
'  Good  your  Grace,  spare  my  life,'  and  fell  down,  some  say,  to 
beg  for  his  life,  but  certainly  the  Duke  kicked  him.  The  Duke 
lost  his  wig  in  the  pursuit  for  a  while  "  (Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep. 
7,  App.  p.  486).  From  the  same  we  learn  that  Killigrew  was 
suspected  of  stabbing  his  servant  while  drunk  in  a  room  next  the 
King's  (ibid.  p.  468),  8th  February  1676-7. 

The  attack  upon  Killigrew  in  May  1669,  owing  to  his  boasted 
favours  of  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury,  is  mentioned  later 
(p.  346.) 

He  is  said  to  have  left  two  sons  by  a  second  and  third  wife: 
Henry,  a  major  in  the  Dragoons,  and  Thomas,  an  ensign  or  lieu- 
tenant (see  Althorp  Memoirs,  p.  28).  The  date  of  his  death  is 
unknown.  He  was  living  in  1694,  when  he  still  held  the  post  of 
Master  of  the  Revels. 


i8o       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

began  to  relate  the  particulars  of  what  he  knew,  and 
perhaps  of  more  than  he  knew,  of  poor  Miss  Hyde; 
nor  did  they  omit  any  circumstance  necessary  to 
strengthen  the  evidence.  For  instance  the  Earl  of 
Arran,  who  spoke  first,  deposed,  that  in  the  gallery 
at  Honslaerdyk,  where  the  Countess  of  Ossory,  his 
sister-in-law,  and  Jermyn,  were  playing  at  nine-pins, 
Miss  Hyde,  pretending  to  be  sick,  retired  to  a  chamber 
at  the  end  of  the  gallery;  that  he,  the  deponent,  had 
followed  her,  and  having  cut  her  lace,  to  give  a  greater 
probability  to  the  pretence  of  the  vapours,  he  had 
acquitted  himself  to  the  best  of  his  abilities,  both  to 
assist  and  to  console  her. 

Talbot10  said,  that  she  had  made  an  appointment 
with  him  in  the  Chancellor's  cabinet,  while  he  was  in 
council;  and  that,  not  paying  so  much  attention  to 
what  was  upon  the  table  as  to  what  they  were  engaged 
in,  they  had  spilled  a  bottle  full  of  ink  upon  a  despatch 
of  four  pages,  and  that  the  King's  monkey,  which  was 
blamed  for  this  accident,  had  been  a  long  time  in  dis- 
grace. 

"Richard  (usually  called  "Dick")  Talbot,  Earl  and  titular 
Duke  of  Tyrconnel,  the  youngest  son  of  Sir  William  Talbot,  born 
1630.  When  in  the  service  of  the  Duke  of  York  prior  to  the 
Restoration,  he  was  concerned  in  royalist  plots,  indeed,  sus- 
pected of  being  implicated  in  a  scheme  to  assassinate  Cromwell, 
by  whom  he  was  arrested,  but  he  effected  his  escape  to  Brussels, 
and  many  believed  he  had  purchased  his  freedom  by  treachery 
to  his  original  cause.  At  the  Restoration  he  was  made  Gentle- 
man of  the  Bedchamber  to  the  Duke  of  York,  whose  amours,  ac- 
cording to  Burnet  (Own  Time,  i,  227),  he  assisted.  On  James's 
accession  he  took  command  of  the  army  in  Ireland,  and  was 
created  Earl,  made  Privy  Councillor  in  January  1686-7,  and  Vice- 
roy and  Lord  Deputy.  After  the  abdication,  when  James  landed 
at  Kinsale,  Talbot  escorted  him  in  state  to  Dublin  Castle,  and 
strongly  advised  him  to  continue  in  the  capital.  During  James's 
sojourn  he  was  created  Duke.  After  the  siege  of  Limerick,  he 
followed  the  exiled  King  to  France,  afterwards  returning  to  Ire- 
land as  Lord  Lieutenant  (January  1690-1),  and  died  of  apoplexy- 
six  months  afterwards  (i4th  August).  He  was  buried  in  Limer- 
ick Cathedral,  but  there  is  no  commemorative  stone.  In  appear- 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  181 

Jermyn  mentioned  many  places  where  he  had 
received  long  and  favourable  audiences;  however,  all 
these  articles  of  accusation  amounted  only  to  some 
delicate  familiarities,  or  at  most,  to  what  is  generally 
denominated  the  innocent  part  of  an  intrigue;  but 
Killigrew,  who  wished  to  surpass  these  trivial  deposi- 
tions, boldly  declared  that  he  had  had  the  honour  of 
being  upon  the  most  intimate  terms  with  her.  He  was 
of  a  sprightly  and  witty  humour,  and  had  the  art  of 
telling  a  story  in  the  most  entertaining  manner,  by  the 
graceful  and  natural  turn  he  could  give  it. 

The  Duke  of  York  found  this  last  accusation  greatly 
out  of  bounds,  being  convinced  he  himself  had  suffi- 
cient proofs  of  the  contrary;  he  therefore  returned 
thanks  to  these  officious  informers  for  their  frankness, 
ordered  them  to  be  silent  for  the  future  upon  what 
they  had  been  telling  him,  and  immediately  passed 
into  the  King's  apartment. 

As  soon  as  he  had  entered  the  cabinet,  Lord  Fal- 
mouth,  who  had  followed  him,  related  what  had  passed 
to  the  Earl  of  Ossory,  whom  he  met  in  the  presence 
chamber.  They  strongly  suspected  what  was  the  sub- 
ject of  the  conversation  of  the  two  brothers,  as  it  was 
long;  and  the  Duke  of  York  appeared  to  be  in  such  agi- 
tation when  he  came  out,  that  they  no  longer  doubted 
that  the  result  had  been  unfavourable  for  poor  Miss 
Hyde.  Lord  Falmouth  began  to  be  affected  for  her 
disgrace,  and  to  relent  that  he  had  been  concerned  in 
it,  when  the  Duke  of  York  told  him  and  the  Earl  of 

ance  he  was  tall,  handsome,  and  commanding,  but  grew  corpulent 
and  unwieldy  in  later  life.  He  had  no  genius  for  arms,  but  was 
unmistakably  brave,  and  had  plenty  of  common-sense,  though  he 
was  both  vain  and  cunning  (see  Memoirs  of  Duke  of  Berwick, 
also  Clarendon  and  Rochester  Correspondence).  Lord  Clarendon 
says  he  had  the  Duke  of  York's  confidence  to  such  a  degree, 
and  in  his  s'ecret  services  so  many  scandalous  circumstances  were 
the  result,  that  he  (Clarendon)  persuaded  the  Duke  to  withdraw 
his  patronage  (see  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biography,  vol.  Iv.  pp.  331-332). 


182        THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

Ossory  to  meet  him  in  about  an  hour's  time  at  the 
Chancellor's. 

They  were  rather  surprised  that  he  should  have  the 
cruelty  himself  to  announce  such  a  melancholy  piece 
of  news.  They  found  his  Royal  Highness  at  the  ap- 
pointed hour  in  Miss  Hyde's  chamber:  a  few  tears 
trickled  down  her  cheeks,  which  she  endeavoured  to 
restrain.  The  Chancellor,  leaning  against  the  wall, 
appeared  to  them  to  be  puffed  up  with  something, 
which  they  did  not  doubt  was  rage  and  despair.  The 
Duke  of  York  said  to  them,  with  that  serene  and  pleas- 
ant countenance  with  which  men  generally  announce 
good  news:  "As  you  are  the  two  men  of  the  Court 
whom  I  most  esteem,  I  am  desirous  you  should  first 
have  the  honour  of  paying  your  compliments  to  the 
Duchess  of  York:  there  she  is." 

Surprise  was  of  no  use,  and  astonishment  was  un- 
seasonable on  the  present  occasion.  They  were,  how- 
ever, so  greatly  possessed  with  both  surprise  and 
astonishment,  that  in  order  to  conceal  it  they  imme- 
diately fell  on  their  knees  to  kiss  her  hand,  which  she 
gave  to  them  with  as  much  majesty  as  if  she  had  been 
used  to  it  all  her  life." 

The  next  day  the  news  was  made  public,"  and  the 
whole  Court  was  eager  to  pay  her  that  respect,  from  a 
sense  of  duty,  which  in  the  end  became  very  sincere. 

The  petits-maitres  who  had  spoken  against  her,  see- 
ing their  intentions  disappointed,  were  not  a  little 
embarrassed.  Women  are  seldom  accustomed  to  for- 
give injuries  of  this  nature ;  and,  if  they  promise  them- 

11  Clarendon,  says  Lord  Falmouth  (then  Sir  Charles  Berkeley), 
declared  "  for  the  Duke's  sake  he  would  be  content  to  marry  her, 
though  he  well  knew  the  familiarity  the  Duke  had  with  her.  This 
he  afterwards  declared  to  be  false,  and  prayed  for  forgiveness 
on  the  plea  that  the  assertion  was  made  out  of  pure  devotion  to 
the  Duke."  See  also  Pepys's  Diary,  loth  December  1660. 

"See  footnote,  p.  92. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  183 

selves  the  pleasure  of  revenge,  when  they  gain  the 
power  they  seldom  forget  it.  In  the  present  case,  how- 
ever, the  fears  of  these  petits-maitres  were  their  only 
punishment. 

The  Duchess  of  York,  being  fully  informed  of  all 
that  was  said  in  the  cabinet  concerning  her,  instead  of 
showing  the  least  resentment,  studied  to  distinguish, 
by  all  manner  of  kindness  and  good  offices,  those  who 
had  attacked  her  in  so  sensible  a  part ;  nor  did  she  ever 
mention  it  to  them,  but  in  order  to  praise  their  zeal, 
and  to  tell  them  "that  nothing  was  a  greater  proof  of 
the  attachment  of  a  man  of  honour,  than  his  being 
more  solicitous  for  the  interest  of  his  friend  or  master 
than  for  his  own  reputation" :  a  remarkable  example 
of  prudence  and  moderation,  not  only  for  the  fair  sex, 
but  even  for  those  men  who  value  themselves  most 
upon  their  philosophy.  , 

The  Duke  of  York,  having  quieted  his  conscience 
by  the  declaration  of  his  marriage,  thought  that  he  was 
entitled,  by  this  generous  effort,  to  give  way  a  little  to 
his  inconstancy.  He  therefore  immediately  seized 
upon  whatever  he  could  first  lay  his  hands  upon :  this 
was  Lady  Carnegy,18  who  had  been  in  several  other 
hands.  She  was  still  tolerably  handsome,  and  her  dis- 

18  Anne,  daughter  of  William,  fourth  Marquis  and  second  Duke 
of  Hamilton,  who  was  mortally  wounded  at  the  battle  of  Wor- 
cester. She  was  one  of  five  daughters.  Her  mother  was  Eliza- 
beth, daughter  of  James,  Earl  of  Dirleton.  Philip,  second  Earl 
of  Chesterfield,  undoubtedly  was  carrying  on  an  intrigue  with 
this  lady  in  1657,  at  the  same  time  as  his  liaison  with  Barbara 
Villiers,  afterwards  Lady  Castlemaine.  A  letter  addressed  for 
these  two,  making  an  appointment  at  Ludgate  Hill,  is  among  the 
Earl's  letters,  (see  "Letters  of  Philip,  Earl  of  Chesterfield"). 
It  appears  from  another  letter  that  the  mother  sent  her  daughter 
Anne  to  Windsor  owing  to  some  discovery  in  which  Chesterfield 
was  involved.  The  following  year  Lady  Anne  sent  the  Earl  an 
intimation  that  she  could  not  bid  him  farewell  as  she  would  have 
wished,  but  points  out  that,  "  you  may  give  me  some  adieus  with 
your  eyes,  since  it  is  to  be  done  noe  other  way"  (ibid.).  She 
afterwards  became  the  wife  of  Lord  Carnegie,  who,  on  his  father's 


184       THE  COURT  OF  CHARLES   II 

position,  naturally  inclined  to  tenderness,  did  not 
oblige  her  new  lover  long  to  languish.  Everything 
coincided  with  their  wishes  for  some  time.  Lord 
Carnegy,  her  husband,  was  in  Scotland ;  but  his  father 
dying  suddenly,  he  as  suddenly  returned  with  the 
title  of  Southesk,  which  his  wife  detested;  but  which 
she  took  more  patiently  than  she  received  the  news 
of  his  return.  Some  private  intimation  had  been  given 
him  of  the  honour  that  was  done  him  in  his  absence; 
nevertheless,  he  did  not  show  his  jealousy  at  first; 
but  as  he  was  desirous  to  be  satisfied  of  the  reality 
of  the  fact,  he  kept  a  strict  watch  over  his  wife's 
actions. 

The  Duke  of  York  and  her  ladyship  had,  for  some 
time,  been  upon  such  terms  of  intimacy,  as  not  to  pass 
their  time  in  frivolous  amusements ;  however,  the  hus- 
band's return  obliged  them  to  maintain  some  de- 
corum. He  therefore  never  went  to  her  house,  but 
in  form,  that  is  to  say,  always  accompanied  by  some 
friend  or  other,  to  give  his  amours  at  least  the  appear- 
ance of  a  visit. 

About  this  time  Talbot*  returned  from  Portugal. 
This  connection  had  taken  place  during  his  absence; 
and  without  knowing  who  Lady  Southesk  was,  he 
had  been  informed  that  his  master  was  in  love  with 
her. 

A  few  days  after  his  arrival,  he  was  carried,  merely 
to  keep  up  appearances,  to  her  house  by  the  Duke ;  and 
after  being  introduced,  and  some  compliments  having 
been  paid  on  both  sides,  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  give 
his  Royal  Highness  an  opportunity  to  pay  his  compli- 
ments, and  accordingly  retired  into  the  ante-chamber, 

death,  became  Earl  of  Southesk.    Pepys  mentions  seeing  her  at 
the  Duke  of  York's  playhouse  on  3rd  December  1668 :  "  We  sat 
under  the  boxes  and  saw  the  fine  ladies ;  among  others  my  Lady 
Kerneguy,  who  is  most  devilishly  painted.    She  died  in  1681. 
14  Afterwards  Duke  of  Tyrconnel  (see  note,  p.  180). 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  185 

which  looked  into  the  street,  and  placed  himself  at  the 
window  to  view  the  people  as  they  passed. 

He  was  one  of  the  best-meaning-  men  in  the  world 
on  such  occasions;  but  was  so  subject  to  forgetfulness, 
and  absence  of  mind,  that18  he  once  forgot,  and  left 
behind  him  at  London,  a  complimentary  letter  which 
the  Duke  had  given  him  for  the  Infanta  of  Portugal, 
and  never  recollected  it  till  he  was  going  to  his 
audience. 

He  stood  sentry,  as  we  have  before  said,  very 
attentive  to  his  instructions,  when  he  saw  a  coach  stop 
at  the  door,  without  being  in  the  least  concerned  at  it, 
and  still  less,  at  a  man  whom  he  saw  get  out  of  it, 
and  whom  he  immediately  heard  coming  upstairs. 

The  devil,  who  ought  to  be  civil18  upon  such  occa- 
sions, forgot  himself  in  the  present  instance,  and 
brought  up  Lord  Southesk  in  propria  persona.  His 
Royal  Highness's  equipage  had  been  sent  home,  be- 
cause my  lady  had  assured  him  that  her  husband  was 
gone  to  see  a  bear  and  a  bull  baiting,  an  entertainment 
in  which  he  took  great  delight,"  and  from  whence  he 
seldom  returned  until  it  was  very  late;  so  that  South- 
esk, not  seeing  any  equipage  at  the  door,  little  imag- 
ined that  he  had  such  good  company  in  his  house ;  but 
if  he  was  surprised  to  see  Talbot  carelessly  lolling 
in  his  wife's  ante-chamber,  his  surprise  was  soon  over. 
Talbot,  who  had  not  seen  him  since  they  were  in 
Flanders,  and  never  supposing  that  he  had  changed 
his  name :  "Welcome,  Carnegy,  welcome,  my  good  fel- 
low," said  he,  giving  him  his  hand ;  "where  the  devil 
have  you  been,  that  I  have  never  been  able  to  set  eyes 

"Upon  a  journey  to  Lisbon  (Vizetelly's  translation). 

"Cautious  (ibid.). 

*  Evelyn  and  Pepys  give  a  good  description  of  the  bull-baiting 
in  the  Bear  Garden  at  Southwark.  Both  diarists  appear  to  have 
been  disgusted  at  this  brutal  sport  (see  Evelyn,  i6th  June  1670, 
and  Pepys,  I4th  August  1666). 


i86       THE    COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

on  you  since  we  were  at  Brussels?  What  business 
brought  you  here  ?  Do  you  likewise  wish  to  see  Lady 
Southesk?  If  this  is  your  intention,  my  poor  friend, 
you  may  go  away  again ;  for  I  must  inform  you,  the 
Duke  of  York  is  in  love  with  her,  and  I  will  tell  you 
in  confidence,  that,  at  this  very  time,  he  is  in  her 
chamber." 

Southesk,  confounded,  as  one  may  suppose,  had  no 
time  to  answer  all  these  fine  questions.  Talbot,  there- 
fore, attended  him  downstairs  as  his  friend;  and,  as 
his  humble  servant,  advised  him  to  seek  for  a  mistress 
elsewhere.  Southesk,  not  knowing  what  else  to  do  at 
that  time,  returned  to  his  coach;  and  Talbot,  over- 
joyed at  the  adventure,  impatiently  waited  for  the 
Duke's  return,  that  he  might  acquaint  him  with  it ;  but 
he  was  very  much  surprised  to  find  that  the  story 
afforded  no  pleasure  to  those  who  had  the  principal 
share  in  it ;  and  his  greatest  concern  was,  that  Carnegy 
had  changed  his  name,  as  if  only  to  draw  him  into  such 
a  confidence. 

This  accident  broke  off  a  commerce  which  the  Duke 
of  York  did  not  much  regret ;  and  indeed  it  was  happy 
for  him  that  he  became  indifferent;  for  the  traitor 
Southesk  meditated  a  revenge,18  whereby,  without 

"Referring  to  this  Pepys  says:  "Her  (Lady  Carnegy's)  Lord 
finding  her  and  the  Duke  of  York,  at  the  King's  first  coming  in, 
too  kind,  did  get  it  out  of  her  that  he  did  dishonour  him,  and 
so  bid  her  continue,  .  .  .  which  is  the  most  pernicious  and  full 
piece  of  revenge  that  ever  I  heard  of:  and  he  at  this  day  owns 
it  with  great  glory,  and  lookes  upon  the  Duke  of  York  and  the 
world  with  great  content  in  the  ampleness  of  his  revenge" 
(Diary,  6th  April  1668).  A  similar  story  is  related  by  Oldys  in 
his  MS.  Annotations  on  Langbaine's  Dramatic  Poets  of  Sir  John 
Denham.  Burnet,  however,  refers  to  the  episode  as  follows: 
"A  story  was  set  about,  and  generally  believed,  that  the  Earl  of 
Southesk,  that  had  married  a  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Ham- 
ilton's suspecting  some  familiarities  between  the  Duke  and  his 
wife,  had  taken  a  sure  method  to  procure  a  disease  to  himself, 
which  he  communicated  to  his  wife,  and  was,  by  that  means,  sent 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  187 

using  either  assassination  or  poison,  he  would  have 
obtained  some  satisfaction  upon  those  who  had  injured 
him,  if  the  connectior  had  continued  any  longer. 

Lady  Robarts"  was  then  in  the  zenith  of  her  glory. 
Her  beauty  was  striking;  yet,  notwithstanding  the 
brightness  of  the  finest  complexion,  with  all  the  bloom 
of  youth,  and  with  every  requisite  for  inspiring  desire, 
she  nevertheless  was  not  attractive.  The  Duke  of 
York,  however,  would  probably  have  been  successful, 
if  difficulties,  almost  insurmountable,  had  not  dis- 
appointed his  good  intentions.  Lord  Robarts,20  her 
husband,  was  an  old,  snarling,  troublesome,  peevish 
fellow,  in  love  with  her  to  distraction,  and,  to  complete 
her  misery,  a  perpetual  attendant  on  her  person. 

She  perceived  his  Royal  Highness's  attachment  to 
her  and  seemed  as  if  she  was  inclined  to  be  grateful. 
This  redoubled  his  eagerness,  and  every  outward  mark 

round  till  it  came  to  the  Duchess.  Lord  Southesk  was,  for  some 
years,  not  ill  pleased  to  have  this  believed.  It  looked  like  a  peculiar 
strain  of  revenge,  with  which  he  seemed  much  delighted.  But 
I  know  he  has,  to  some  of  his  friends,  denied  the  whole  of  the 
story  very  solemnly"  (History  of  His  Own  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  319). 
[The  Earl  of  Southesk  informs  me  there  is  no  allusion  to  this 
evident  fiction  in  any  of  the  letters  or  papers  in  the  charter  room 
at  Kinnaird  Castle. — A.  F.] 

19  Probably  Letitia  Isabella,  second  wife  of  John,  second  Lord 
Robartes,  eldest  son  of  John  Earl  of  Radnor,  whom  he  succeeded. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  Sir  John  Smith.     Pepys  mentions  her 
(27th  April  1668)  and  her  daughter,  "  a  very  fine-skinned  lady," 
with  whom  he  danced  at  Lord  Crewe's. 

20  John,  second  Lord   Robartes,   afterwards  Viscount  Bodmin 
and  Earl  of  Radnor  (1679),  Lord  Privy  Seal  from  1661  to  1673, 
Deputy,  and  afterwards  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland.    Pepys  fre- 
quently mentions  him,  and  speaks  of  him  as  a  bad  business  man 
and  a  taskmaster.    Clarendon  says  Lord  Robartes  was  proud,  im- 
perious, and  morose  by  nature.    "  He  had  parts,  which  in  council 
and   parliament   were   ve_ry   troublesome;    for,   of   all   the   men 
alive,  who  had  so  few  friends,  he  had  the  most  followers.    They 
who  conversed  most  with  him  knew  him  to  have  many  humours 
which  were  very  intolerable ;  they  who  were  but  little  acquainted 
with  him  took  him  to  be  a  man  of  much  knowledge,  and  called 
his  morosity  gravity"  (Continuation  of  Clarendon,  p.  102.) 


of  tenderness  he  could  possibly  show  her;  but  the 
watchful  husband  redoubling  his  zeal  and  assiduity,  as 
he  found  the  approaches  advance,  every  art  was  prac- 
tised to  render  him  tractable.  Several  attacks  were 
made  upon  his  avarice  and  his  ambition.  Those  who 
possessed  the  greatest  share  of  his  confidence,  insin- 
uated to  him  that  it  was  his  own  fault  if  Lady  Robarts, 
who  was  so  worthy  of  being  at  Court,  was  not  re- 
ceived into  some  considerable  post,  either  about  the 
Queen  or  the  Duchess.  He  was  offered  to  be  made 
Lord  Lieutenant  of  the  county  where  his  estate  was; 
of  to  have  the  management  of  the  Duke  of  York's 
revenues  in  Ireland,  of  which  he  should  have  the  en- 
tire disposal,  provided  he  immediately  set  out  to  take 
possession  of  his  charge;  and  having  accomplished  it, 
he  might  return  as  soon  as  ever  he  thought  proper. 

He  perfectly  well  understood  the  meaning  of  these 
proposals,  and  was  fully  apprised  of  the  advantages  he 
might  reap  from  them.  In  vain  did  ambition  and 
avarice  hold  out  their  allurements;  he  was  deaf  to  all 
their  temptations,  nor  could  ever  the  old  fellow  be 
persuaded  to  be  made  a  cuckold.  It  is  not  always  an 
aversion  to,  or  a  dread  of  this  distinction,  which  pre- 
serves us  from  it.  Of  this  her  husband  was  very 
sensible ;  therefore,  under  the  pretence  of  a  pilgrimage 
to  Saint  Winifred,  the  virgin  and  martyr,  who  was 
said  to  cure  women  of  barrenness,  he  did  not  rest  until 
the  highest  mountains  in  Wales  were  between  his  wife 
and  the  person  who  had  designed  to  perform  this 
miracle  in  London,  after  his  departure. 

The  Duke  was  for  some  time  entirely  taken  up 
with  the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  and  only  now  and 
then  engaged  in  those  of  love;  but  his  taste  having 
undergone  a  change  in  this  particular,  and  the  remem- 
brance of  Lady  Robarts  wearing  off  by  degrees,  his 
eyes  and  wishes  were  turned  towards  Miss  Brooke; 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  189 

and  it  was  in  the  height  of  this  pursuit  that  Lady  Ches- 
terfield threw  herself  into  his  arms,  as  we  shall  see 
by  resuming  the  sequel  of  her  adventures. 

The  Earl  of  Bristol,21  ever  restless  and  ambitious, 

21  George  Digby,  second  Earl  of  Bristol,  born  1612,  succeeded  to 
the  title  in  1653  (the  first  Earl,  James  I.'s  Ambassador  to  Madrid, 
endeavoured  in  vain  to  bring  about  the  Spanish  match  with 
Prince  Charles  in  1623). 

There  are  several  allusions  in  Pepys  to  the  Earl's  deadly  ani- 
mosity to  Clarendon  and  of  his  unsuccessful  impeachments 
against  the  Lord  Chancellor  in  the  House  of  Lords,  by  which  he 
incurred  the  King's  displeasure.  On  I7th  March  1663-4  the  diarist 
records  how  a  guard  was  sent  to  arrest  him  at  his  house  at 
Wimbledon,  but  he  had  effected  his  escape.  This  mansion  was 
sold  to  him  by  the  Queen  Mother  in  1661,  and  Evelyn  went  there 
on  I7th  February  1662  "to  help  contrive  the  garden  after  the 
moderne."  The  library,  according  to  Evelyn,  2Oth  December 
1677,  consisted  much  of  "judicial  astrologie,  romances,  and 
trifles."  The  house  was  pulled  down  about  1717.  Digby  sold  this 
Wimbledon  House  to  the  Lord  Treasurer  and  purchased  Buck- 
ingham House,  Chelsea  (afterwards  known  as  Beaufort  House, 
and  pulled  down  in  1740),  when  the  fine  Inigo  Jones  gateway 
was  removed  to  Chiswick.  Evelyn  describes  the  latter  as  "  large 
but  ill-contrived."  and  speaks  of  the  fine  collection  of  pictures  by 
Titian  and  Vandyke  (among  the  latter  the  portrait  of  the  Earl 
now  at  Althorp  and  reproduced  here).  His  town  house  in  Queen 
Street,  Lincoln's  Inn,  with  its  long  gallery  and  gardens,  is  also 
mentioned  by  the  diarist  (26th  May  1671). 

Though  a  man  of  extraordinary  ability,  Digby  was  utterly  void 
of  principle.  Clarendon  says  he  pandered  to  the  tastes  of  "the 
Merry  Monarch  "  by  doing  all  that  might  be  acceptable,  and  con- 
triving such  meetings  and  jollities  as  he  was  pleased  with,  which 
description  quite  accords  with  Gramont's  account  (Clarendon's 
Continuation,  p.  208).  In  his  Royal  and  Noble  Authors,  Walpole 
says:  "His  life  was  one  contradiction.  He  wrote  against  popery 
and  embraced  it;  he  was  a  zealous  oppos'er  of  the  Court  and  a 
sacrifice  to  it  .  .  .  With  great  parts  he  always  hurt  himself  and 
his  friends;  with  romantic  bravery  he  was  always  an  unsuc- 
cessful commander.  He  spoke  for  the  Test  Act,  though  a  Roman 
Catholic,  and  addicted  himself  to  astrology  on  the  birthday  of 
true  philosophy"  (vol.  ii.  p.  25).  He  certainly  was  one  of  the 
greatest  orators  of  the  day,  and  was  the  author  of  several  plays 
and  poems  of  note  (see  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biography,  xv.  52-55).  The 
Earl  died  (20th  March  1677)  at  his  house  in  Chelsea,  but  there 
is  no  record  in  the  church  register  of  his  burial  (Lysons'  En- 
virons). With  the  death  of  the  Earl's  elder  son,  John,  third 
Earl,  the  titles  of  Digby  and  Bristol  became  extinct 


THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES'  II 

had  put  in  practice  every  art  to  possess  himself  of  the 
King's  favour.  As  this  is  the  same  Digby  whom 
Count  Bussya  mentions  in  his  annals,  it  will  be  suffi- 
cient to  say  that  he  was  not  at  all  changed :  he  knew 
that  love  and  pleasure  had  possession  of  a  master, 
whom  he  himself  governed,  in  defiance  of  the  Chan- 
cellor;28 thus  he  was  continually  giving  entertainments 
at  his  house ;  and  luxury  and  elegance  seemed  to  rival 
each  other  in  those  nocturnal  feasts,  which  always  lead 
to  other  enjoyments.  The  two  Miss  Brookes,**  his 
relations,  were  always  of  those  parties ;  .they  were  both 
formed  by  nature  to  excite  love  in  others,  as  well  as  to 
be  susceptible  of  it  themselves ;  they  were  just  what  the 
King  wanted.  The  Earl,  from  this  commencement, 
was  beginning  to  entertain  a  good  opinion  of  his  proj- 
ect, when  Lady  Castlemaine,  who  had  lately  gained 
entire  possession  of  the  King's  heart,  was  not  in  a 
humour,  at  that  time,  to  share  it  with  another,  as  she 
did  very  indiscreetly  afterwards,  despising  Miss 
Stewart.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  she  received  intima- 
tion of  these  secret  practices,  under  pretence  of  attend- 
ing the  King  in  his  parties,  she  entirely  disconcerted 
them;  so  that  the  Earl  was  obliged  to  lay  aside  his 
projects,  and  Miss  Brooke  to  discontinue  her  advances. 
The  King  did  not  even  dare  to  think  any  more  on 
this  subject;  but  his  brother  was  pleased  to  look  after 
what  he  neglected;  and  Miss  Brooke  accepted  the 
offer  of  his  heart,  until  it  pleased  Heaven  to  dispose 
of  her  otherwise,  which  happened  soon  after,  in  the 
following  manner. 

Sir  John  Denham,*  loaded  with  wealth  as  well  as 
years,  had  passed  his  youth  in  the  midst  of  those 

"Roger  de  Bussi-Rabutin. 

**  See  Continuation  of  Life,  by  Lord  Clarendon,  p.  208. 

24  See  footnote,  p.  102. 

25  Sir  John  Denham,  b.  1615,  ob.  1669,  Surveyor  to  the  Crown, 
"n  which  position  he  succeeded  InigQ  Jones.     Burlington  House 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  191 

pleasures  which  people  at  that  age  indulge  in  without 
restraint;  he  was  one  of  the  brightest  geniuses  Eng- 
land ever  produced,  for  wit  and  humour,  and  for 
brilliancy  of  composition:  satirical  and  free  in  his 
poems,  he  spared  neither  frigid  writers,  nor  jealous 
husbands,  nor  even  their  wives :  every  part  abounded 
with  the  most  poignant  wit,  and  the  most  entertain- 
ing stories;  but  his  most  delicate  and  spirited  raillery 
turned  generally  against  matrimony;  and,  as  if  he 
wished  to  confirm,  by  his  own  example,  the  truth  of 
what  he  had  written  in  his  youth,  he  married,  at  the 
age  of  seventy-nine,  this  Miss  Brooke  of  whom  we 
are  speaking,  who  was  only  eighteen.24 

The  Duke  of  York  had  rather  neglected  her  for 
some  time  before ;  but  the  circumstance  of  so  unequal 
a  match  rekindled  his  ardour;  and  she,  on  her  part, 
suffered  him  to  entertain  hopes  of  an  approaching 
bliss,  which  a  thousand  considerations  had  opposed 
before  her  marriage.  She  wished  to  belong  to  the 
Court;  and  for  the  promise  of  being  made  lady  of 
the  bedchamber  to  the  Duchess,  she  was  upon  the 
point  of  making  him  another  promise,  or  of  imme- 
diately performing  it,  if  required,  when,  in  the  middle 
of  this  treaty,  Lady  Chesterfield  was  tempted,  by  her 
evil  genius,  to  rob  her  of  her  conquest,  in  order  to 
disturb  all  the  world. 

However,   as  Lady  Chesterfield  could  not  see  the 

was  built  by  him  for  Lord  Burlington  (vide  Pepys*  Diary,  28th 
September  1668),  who  afterwards  made  extensive  alterations. 
Sir  John  was  a  poet  of  some  distinction  (vide  his  "  Cooper's  Hill," 
and  Poems  on  State  Affairs). 

26  Sir  John  Denham's  union  with  Margaret1  Brooke  (his  second 
wife)  took  place  25th  May  1665  (register  Westminster  Abbey). 
Far  from  being  seventy-nine,  his  age  was  fifty  at  this  time. 
About  1767  he  had  a  period  of  madness,  from  which  he  after- 
wards recovered  (vide  Temple's  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  484,  and  Butler's 
Posthumous  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  155). 

1  She  is  sometimes  named  Elizabeth  in  error. 


Duke  of  York,  except  in  public  assemblies,  she  was 
under  the  necessity  of  making  the  most  extravagant 
advances,  in  order  to  seduce  him  from  his  former  con- 
nection; and  as  he  was  the  most  unguarded  ogler  of 
his  time,  the  whole  Court  was  informed  of  the  intrigue 
before  it  was  well  begun. 

Those  who  appeared  the  most  attentive  to  their 
conduct  were  not  the  least  interested  in  it.  Hamilton 
and  Lord  Chesterfield  watched  them  narrowly;  but 
Lady  Denham,  vexed  that  Lady  Chesterfield  should 
have  stepped  in  before  her,  took  the  liberty  of  railing 
against  her  rival  with  the  greatest  bitterness.  Hamil- 
ton had  hitherto  flattered  himself  that  vanity  alone  had 
engaged  Lady  Chesterfield  in  this  adventure;  but  he 
was  soon  undeceived,  whatever  her  indifference  might 
have  been  when  she  first  commenced  this  intrigue. 
We  often  proceed  farther  than  we  at  first  intended, 
when  we  indulge  ourselves  in  trifling  liberties  which 
we  think  of  no  consequence;  for  though  perhaps  the 
heart  takes  no  part  at  the  beginning,  it  seldom  fails  to 
be  engaged  in  the  end. 

The  Court,  as  we  have  mentioned  before,  was  an 
entire  scene  of  gallantry  and  amusements,  with  all 
the  politeness  and  magnificence  which  the  inclinations 
of  a  Prince  naturally  addicted  to  tenderness  and  pleas- 
ure could  suggest.  The  beauties  were  desirous  of 
charming,  and  the  men  endeavoured  to  please:  all 
studied  to  set  themselves  off  to  the  best  advantage. 
Some  distinguished  themselves  by  dancing;  others  by 
show  and  magnificence;  some  by  their  wit,  many  by 
their  amours,  but  few  by  their  constancy.  There  was 
a  certain  Italian  at  Court,  famous  for  the  guitar."  He 
had  a  genius  for  music,  and  he  was  the  only  man  who 
could  make  anything  of  the  guitar;  his  style  of  play 
was  so  full  of  grace  and  tenderness,  that  he  would 
9  Francesco  Corbetta  (Vizetelly's  translation). 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  193 

have  given  harmony  to  the  most  discordant  instru- 
ments. The  truth  is,  nothing  was  so  difficult  as  to 
play  like  this  foreigner.  The  King's  relish  for  his 
compositions  had  brought  the  instrument  so  much  into 
vogue,  that  every  person  played  upon  it,  well  or  ill; 
and  you  were  as  sure  to  see  a  guitar  on  a  lady's  toilet 
as  rouge  or  patches.  The  Duke  of  York  played  upon 
it  tolerably  well,  and  the  Earl  of  Arran  like  Francisco 
himself.  This  Francisco  had  composed  a  saraband, 
which  either  charmed  or  infatuated  every  person;  for 
the  whole  guitarery  at  Court  were  trying  at  it ;  and  God 
knows  what  an  universal  strumming  there  was.  The 
Duke  of  York,  pretending  not  to  be  perfect  in  it, 
desired  Lord  Arran  to  play  it  to  him.  Lady  Chester- 
field had  the  best  guitar  in  England.  The  Earl  of 
Arran,  who  was  desirous  of  playing  his  best,  con- 
ducted his  Royal  Highness  to  his  sister's  apartments : 
she  was  lodged  at  Court,  at  her  father's,  the  Duke 
of  Ormonde's;  and  this  wonderful  guitar  was  lodged 
there  to.  Whether  this  visit  had  been  preconcerted  or 
not,  I  do  not  pretend  to  say;  but  it  is  certain  that 
they  found  both  the  lady  and  the  guitar  at  home :  they 
likewise  found  there  Lord  Chesterfield,  so  much  sur- 
prised at  this  unexpected  visit,  that  it  was  a  consider- 
able time  before  he  thought  of  rising  from  his  seat  to 
receive  them  with  due  respect. 

Jealousy,  like  a  malignant  vapour,  now  seized  upon 
his  brain:  a  thousand  suspicions,  blacker  than  ink, 
took  possession  of  his  imagination,  and  were  contin- 
ually increasing;  for,  whilst  the  brother  played  upon 
the  guitar  to  the  Duke,  the  sister  ogled  and  accom- 
panied him  with  her  eyes,  as  if  the  coast  had  been 
clear,  and  no  enemy  to  observe  them.  This  saraband 
was  at  least  repeated  twenty  times.  The  Duke  declared 
it  was  played  to  perfection.  Lady  Chesterfield  found 
fault  with  the  composition;  but  her  husband,  who 


194       THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

clearly  perceived  that  he  was  the  person  played  upon, 
thought  it  a  most  detestable  piece.  However,  though 
he  was  in  the  last  agony  at  being  obliged  to  curb  his 
passion  while  others  gave  a  free  scope  to  theirs,  he 
was  resolved  to  find  out  the  drift  of  the  visit;  but  it 
was  not  in  his  power;  for  having  the  honour  to  be 
Chamberlain  to  the  Queen,  a  messenger  came  to  re- 
quire his  immediate  attendance  on  her  Majesty.  His 
first  thought  was  to  pretend  sickness;  the  second  to 
suspect  that  the  Queen,  who  sent  for  him  at  such  an 
unseasonable  time,  was  in  the  plot;  but  at  last,  after 
all  the  extravagant  ideas  of  a  suspicious  man,  and  all 
the  irresolutions  of  a  jealous  husband,  he  was  obliged 
to  go. 

We  may  easily  imagine  what  his  state  of  mind  was 
when  he  arrived  at  the  Palace.  Alarms  are  to  the 
jealous  what  disasters  are  to  the  unfortunate:  they 
seldom  come  alone,  but  form  a  series  of  persecution. 
He  was  informed  that  he  was  sent  for  to  attend  the 
Queen  at  an  audience  she  gave  to  seven  or  eight 
Muscovite  ambassadors.*8  He  had  scarce  begun  to 
curse  the  Muscovites,  when  his  brother-in-law  ap- 
peared, and  drew  upon  himself  all  the  imprecations 
he  bestowed  upon  the  embassy.  He  no  longer  doubted 
his  being  in  the  plot  with  the  two  persons  he  had  left 
together,  and  in  his  heart  sincerely  wished  him  such 
recompense  for  his  good  offices  as  such  good  offices 
deserved.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  he  restrained 
himself  from  immediately  acquainting  him  what  was 
his  opinion  of  such  conduct.  He  thought  that  what 
he  had  already  seen  was  a  sufficient  proof  of  his 
wife's  infidelity;  but  before  the  end  of  the  very  same 
day,  some  circumstances  occurred  which  increased  his 
suspicions,  and  persuaded  him  that  they  had  taken 

*  They  arrived  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1662  (see  Evelyn's 
Diary,  29th  December  1662,  and  Pepys'  Diary,  5th  January  1662-3). 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  195 

advantage  of  his  absence,  and  of  the  honourable 
officiousness  of  his  brother-in-law.  He  passed,  how- 
ever, that  night  with  tranquillity;  but  the  next  morn- 
ing, being  reduced  to  the  necessity  either  of  bursting 
or  giving  vent  to  his  sorrows  and  conjectures,  he  did 
nothing  but  think  and  walk  about  the  room  until  Park- 
time.  He  went  to  Court,  seemed  very  busy,  as  if  seek- 
ing for  some  person  or  other,  imagining  that  people 
guessed  at  the  subject  of  his  uneasiness;  he  avoided 
everybody,  but  at  length  meeting  with  Hamilton,  he 
thought  he  was  the  very  man  that  he  wanted;  and, 
having  desired  him  to  take  an  airing  with  him  in  Hyde 
Park,  he  took  him  up  in  his  coach,  and  they  arrived  at 
the  Ring,29  without  a  word  having  passed  between  them. 
Hamilton,  who  saw  him  as  yellow  as  jealousy  itself, 
and  particularly  thoughtful,  imagined  that  he  had  just 
discovered  what  all  the  world  had  perceived  long  be- 
fore; when  Chesterfield,  after  a  broken,  insignificant 
preamble,  asked  him  how  he  succeeded  with  Lady  Cas- 
tlemaine.  Hamilton,  who  very  well  saw  that  he  meant 
nothing  by  this  question,  nevertheless  thanked  him; 
and  as  he  was  thinking  of  an  answer :  "Your  cousin," 
said  the  Earl,  "is  extremely  coquettish,  and  I  have 
some  reason  to  suppose  she  is  not  so  prudent  as  she 
ought  to  be."  Hamilton  thought  the  last  charge  a 
little  too  severe ;  and  as  he  was  endeavouring  to  refute 
it :  "Good  God !"  said  my  lord,  "you  see,  as  well  as  the 
whole  Court,  what  airs  she  gives  herself.  Husbands 
are  always  the  last  people  that  are  spoken  to  about 
those  affairs  that  concern  them  the  most ;  but  they  are 
not  always  the  last  to  perceive  it  themselves.  Though 
you  have  made  me  your  confidant  in  other  matters, 

29  A  circular  ride  and  promenade  surrounded  by  trees  (several 
of  which  still  remain)  made  in  Charles  I.'s  reign,  and  partially 
destroyed  when  the  Serpentine  was  formed  in  George  II.'s  time 
(see  Cunningham's  London). 

1 — Memoirs  Vol.  4 


196       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

yet  I  am  not  at  all  surprised  you  have  concealed  this 
from  me;  but  as  I  flatter  myself  with  having  some 
share  in  your  esteem,  I  should  be  sorry  you  should 
think  me  such  a  fool  as  to  be  incapable  of  seeing, 
though  I  am  so  complaisant  as  not  to  express  my 
sentiments :  nevertheless,  I  find  that  affairs  are  now 
carried  on  with  such  barefaced  boldness,  that  at  length 
I  find  I  shall  be  forced  to  take  some  course  or  other. 
God  forbid  that  I  should  act  the  ridiculous  part  of  a 
jealous  husband :  the  character  is  odious ;  but  then  I 
do  not  intend,  through  an  excess  of  patience,  to  be 
made  the  jest  of  the  town.  Judge,  therefore,  from 
what  I  am  going  to  tell  you,  whether  I  ought  to  sit 
down  unconcerned,  or  whether  I  ought  to  take  meas- 
ures for  the  preservation  of  my  honour. 

"His  Royal  Highness  honoured  me  yesterday  by  a 
visit  to  my  wife."  Hamilton  started  at  this  beginning. 
"Yes,"  continued  the  other,  "he  did  give  himself  that 
trouble,  and  Lord  Arran  took  upon  himself  that  of 
bringing  him.  Do  not  you  wonder  that  a  man  of  his 
birth  should  act  such  a  part?  What  advancement  can 
he  expect  from  one  who  employs  him  in  such  base 
services?  But  we  have  long  known  him  to  be  one  of 
the  silliest  c.eatures  in  England,  with  his  guitar,  and 
his  other  whims  and  follies."  Chesterfield,  after  this 
short  sketch  of  his  brother-in-law's  merit,  began  to 
relate  the  observations  he  had  made  during  the  visit, 
and  asked  Hamilton  what  he  thought  of  his  cousin 
Arran,  who  had  so  obligingly  left  them  together. 
"This  may  appear  surprising  to  you,"  continued  he, 
"but  hear  me  out,  and  judge  whether  I  have  reason  to 
think  that  the  close  of  this  pretty  visit  passed  in  perfect 
innocence.  Lady  Chesterfield  is  amiable,  it  must  be 
acknowledged ;  but  she  is  far  from  being  such  a  miracle 
of  beauty  as  she  supposes  herself.  You  know  she  has 
ugly  feet ;  but  perhaps  you  are  not  acquainted  that  she 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  197 

has  still  worse  legs."  "Pardon  me,"  said  Hamilton, 
within  himself;  and  the  other,  continuing  the  descrip- 
tion: "Her  legs/'  said  his  lordship,  "are  short  and 
thick ;  and,  to  remedy  these  defects  as  much  as  possible, 
she  seldom  wears  any  other  than  green  stockings." 

Hamilton  could  not  for  his  life  imagine  the  drift 
of  all  this  discourse,  and  Chesterfield,  guessing  his 
thoughts:  "Have  a  little  patience,"  said  he.  "I  went 
yesterday  to  Miss  Stewart's  after  the  audience  of  those 
damned  Muscovites.  The  King  arrived  there  just 
before  me ;  and  as  if  the  Duke  had  sworn  to  pursue  me 
wherever  I  went  that  day,  he  came  in  just  after  me. 
The  conversation  turned  upon  the  extraordinary  ap- 
pearance of  the  ambassadors.  I  know  not  where  that 
fool  Crofts"  had  heard  that  all  these  Muscovites  had 
handsome  wives;  and  that  all  their  wives  had  hand- 
some legs.  Upon  this  the  King  maintained  that  no 
woman  ever  had  such  handsome  legs  as  Miss  Stewart ; 
and  she,  to  prove  the  truth  of  his  Majesty's  assertion, 
with  the  greatest  imaginable  ease,  immediately  showed 
her  legs  above  the  knee.  Some  were  ready  to  prostrate 
themselves,  in  order  to  adore  its  beauty;  for  indeed 
none  can  be  handsomer;  but  the  Duke  alone  began  to 
criticise  upon  it.  He  contended  that  it  was  too  slender, 
and  that  as  for  himself  he  would  give  nothing  for  a 
leg  that  was  not  thicker  and  shorter,  and  concluded  by 
saying  that  no  leg  was  worth  anything  without  green 
stockings.  Now  this,  in  my  opinion,  was  a  sufficient 
demonstration  that  he  had  just  seen  green  stockings," 
and  had  them  fresh  in  his  remembrance." 

Hamilton  was  at  a  loss  what  countenance  to  put  on 

"William,  Lord  Crofts  of   Saxham,   b.  1658,  ob.  1677    (vide 
footnote,  p.  329). 

"  There  is  nothing  neater,"  says  the  French  Ambassador 
Courtin,  "  than  the  feet  and  ankles  of  the  English  ladies,  in  their 
well-fitting  shoes  and  silk  stockings.  They  wear  their  skirts 
short;  and  I  often  see  legs  so  well  turned  that  a  sculptor  would 


198       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

during  a  narrative  which  raised  in  him  nearly  the  same 
conjectures;  he  shrugged  up  his  shoulders,  and  faintly 
said  that  appearances  were  often  deceitful;  that  Lady 
Chesterfield  had  the  foible  of  all  beauties,  who  place 
their  merit  on  the  number  of  their  admirers ;  and  what- 
ever airs  she  might  imprudently  have  given  herself,  in 
order  not  to  discourage  his  Royal  Highness,  there  was 
no  ground  to  suppose  that  she  would  indulge  him  in 
any  greater  liberties  to  engage  him.  But  in  vain  was  it 
that  he  endeavoured  to  give  that  consolation  to  his 
friend  which  he  did  not  feel  himself.  Chesterfield 
plainly  perceived  he  did  not  think  of  what  he  was 
saying;  however,  he  thought  himself  much  obliged  to 
him  for  the  interest  he  seemed  to  take  in  his  concerns. 

Hamilton  was  in  haste  to  go  home  to  vent  his  spleen 
and  resentment  in  a  letter  to  his  cousin.  The  style 
of  this  billet  was  very  different  from  those  which  he 
formerly  was  accustomed  to  write  to  her.  Reproaches, 
bitter  expostulations,  tenderness,  menaces,  and  all  the 
effusions  of  a  lover  who  thinks  he  has  reason  to  com- 
plain, composed  this  epistle,  which,  for  fear  of  acci- 
dent, he  went  to  deliver  himself. 

Never  did  she  before  appear  so  lovely,  and  never  did 
her  eyes  speak  so  kindly  to  him  as  at  this  moment.  His 

like  to  mould  them.  Green  silk  stockings  are  modish.  The 
garter,  of  which  glimpses  are  often  afforded,  is  below  the  knee, 
and  in  black  velvet,  with  diamond  buckles.  Those  who  have  no 
silk  stockings  to  wear  show  a  white  skin  smooth  as  satin. 
English  women  prefer  being  stockingless  to  wearing  clumsy  d 
figuring  hosiery."— According  to  the  Mss.  Relation  d  Angleterre 
vol  cxxxvii.  fol.  400.  A  foreign  ambassador  arriving  in  England 
called  on  Frances  Stewart  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  see  her 
leg.  that  he  might  report  to  his  master  that  the  fame  of  her 
calf  and  ankle  had  not  been  overrated  (see  Forneron  s  Louise  de 
Keroualle),  pp.  28,  161-2.  Bolingbroke  gives  a  glimpse  ot  me 
freedom  of  the  times  (when  it  was  no  unusual  thing  for  a  maid 
of  honour  to  receive  her  suitor  in  her  bedroom)  by  saying  tnat, 
when  Churchill  was  courting  the  beautiful  Sarah  Jennings,  one  ot 
his  duties  was  to  tie  and  untie  her  garters  (see  Wolseley  s  Marl- 
borough). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  199 

heart  quite  relented;  but  he  was  determined  not  to 
lose  all  the  fine  things  he  had  said  in  his  letter.  In 
receiving  it,  she  squeezed  his  hand :  this  action  com- 
pletely disarmed  him,  and  he  would  have  given  his 
life  to  have  had  his  letter  again.  It  appeared  to  him 
at  this  instant  that  all  the  grievances  he  complained 
of  were  visionary  and  groundless.  He  looked  upon 
her  husband  as  a  madman  and  an  impostor,  and  quite 
the  reverse  of  what  he  supposed  him  to  be  a  few  min- 
utes before;  but  this  remorse  came  a  little  too  late. 
He  had  delivered  his  billet,  and  Lady  Chesterfield  had 
shown  such  impatience  and  eagerness  to  read  it  as  soon 
as  she  had  got  it  that  all  circumstances  seemed  to  con- 
spire to  justify  her,  and  to  confound  him.  She  man- 
aged to  get  quit,  some  way  or  other,  of  some  trouble- 
some visitors,  to  slip  into  her  closet.  He  thought  him- 
self so  culpable  that  he  had  not  the  assurance  to  wait 
her  return.  He  withdrew  with  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany ;  but  he  did  not  dare  to  appear  before  her  the  next 
day;  to  have  an  answer  to  his  letter.  However,  he  met 
her  at  Court ;  and  this  was  the  first  time,  since  the  com- 
mencement of  their  amour,  that  he  did  not  seek  for 
her.  He  stood  at  a  distance,  with  downcast  looks,  and 
appeared  in  such  terrible  embarrassment  that  his  con- 
dition was  sufficient  to  raise  laughter  or  to  cause  pity, 
when  Lady  Chesterfield  approaching,  thus  accosted 
him :  "Confess,"  said  she,  "that  you  are  in  as  foolish 
a  situation  as  any  man  of  sense  can  be.  You  wish 
you  had  not  written  to  me;  you  are  desirous  of  an 
answer;  you  hope  for  none;  yet  you  equally  wish  for 
and  dread  it.  I  have,  however,  written  you  one."  She 
had  not  time  to  say  more ;  but  the  few  words  she  had 
spoken  were  accompanied  with  such  an  air,  and  such 
a  look,  as  to  make  him  believe  that  it  was  Venus  with 
all  her  graces,  who  had  addressed  him.  He  was  near 
her  when  she  sat  down  to  cards,  and  as  he  was  puzzling 


200       THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

himself  to  devise  by  what  means  he  should  get  this 
answer,  she  desired  him  to  lay  her  gloves  and  fan 
down  somewhere.  He  took  them,  and  with  them  the 
billet  in  question;  and  as  he  had  perceived  nothing 
severe  or  angry  in  the  conversation  he  had  with  her, 
he  hastened  to  open  her  letter,  and  read  as  follows: 

"Your  transports  are  so  ridiculous  that  it  is  doing 
you  a  favour  to  attribute  them  to  an  excess  of  tender- 
ness, which  turns  your  head.  A  man,  without  doubt, 
must  have  a  great  inclination  to  be  jealous  to  enter- 
tain such  an  idea  of  the  person  you  mention.  Good 
God !  what  a  lover  to  have  caused  uneasiness  to  a  man 
of  genius,  and  what  a  genius  to  have  got  the  better  of 
mine!  Are  not  you  ashamed  to  give  any  credit  to 
the  visions  of  a  jealous  fellow  who  brought  nothing 
else  with  him  from  Italy  ?  It  is  possible  that  the  story 
of  the  green  stockings,  upon  which  he  has  founded  his 
suspicions,  should  have  imposed  upon  you,  accompanied 
as  it  is  with  such  pitiful  circumstances?  Since  he  has 
made  you  his  confidant,  why  did  not  he  boast  of  break- 
ing in  pieces  my  poor  harmless  guitar?  This  exploit, 
perhaps,  might  have  convinced  you  more  than  all  the 
rest.  Recollect  yourself,  and  if  you  are  really  in  love 
with  me,  thank  fortune  for  a  groundless  jealousy, 
which  diverts  to  another  quarter  the  attention  he 
might  pay  to  my  attachment  for  the  most  amiable  and 
the  most  dangerous  man  at  Court." 

Hamilton  was  ready  to  weep  for  joy  at  these  en- 
dearing marks  of  kindness,  of  which  he  'thought  him- 
self so  unworthy.  He  was  not  satisfied  with  kissing, 
in  raptures,  every  part  of  this  billet;  he  also  kissed 
several  times  her  gloves  and  her  fan.  Play  being  over, 
Lady  Chesterfield  received  them  from  his  hands,  and 
read  in  his  eyes  the  joy  that  her  billet  had  raised  in 
his  heart.  Nor  was  he  satisfied  with  expressing  his 
raptures  only  by  looks.  He  hastened  home,  and  wrote 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  201 

to  her  at  least  four  times  as  much.  How  different  was 
this  letter  from  the  other!  Though  perhaps  not  so 
well  written;  for  one  does  not  show  so  much  wit  in 
suing  for  pardon,  as  in  venting  reproaches,  and  it 
seldom  happens  that  the  soft  languishing  style  of  a 
love-letter  is  so  penetrating  as  that  of  invective. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  his  peace  was  made.  Their  past 
quarrel  gave  new  life  to  their  correspondence;  and 
Lady  Chesterfield,  to  make  him  as  easy  as  he  had 
before  been  distrustful,  expressed  on  every  occasion  a 
feigned  contempt  for  his  rival,  and  a  sincere  aversion 
for  her  husband. 

So  great  was  his  confidence  in  her,  that  he  consented 
she  should  show  in  public  some  marks  of  attention  to 
the  Duke,  in  order  to  conceal  as  much  as  possible  their 
private  intelligence.  Thus,  at  this  time  nothing  dis- 
turbed his  peace  of  mind,  but  his  impatience  of  finding 
a  favourable  opportunity  for  the  completion  of  his 
desires.  He  thought  it  was  in  her  power  to  command 
it;  but  she  excused  herself  on  account  of  several  diffi- 
culties which  she  enumerated  to  him,  and  which  she 
was  desirous  he  should  remove  by  his  industry 
and  attentions. 

This  silenced  his  complaints;  but  whilst  he  was 
endeavouring  to  surmount  these  obstacles,  still  won- 
dering how  it  was  possible  that  two  persons  who  were 
so  well  disposed  to  each  other,  and  who  were  agreed 
to  make  each  other  happy,  could  not  put  their  designs 
in  execution,  accident  discovered  an  unexpected  ad- 
venture, which  left  him  no  room  to  doubt,  either  of  the 
happiness  of  his  rival,  or  of  the  perfidy  of  his  mistress. 

Misfortunes  often  fall  light  when  most  feared;  and 
frequently  prove  heaviest  when  merited,  and  when 
least  suspected.  Hamilton  was  in  the  middle  of  the 
most  tender  and  passionate  letter  he  had  ever  written 
to  Lady  Chesterfield,  when  her  husband  came  to  an- 


202       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

nounce  to  him  the  particulars  of  this  last  discovery. 
He  came  so  suddenly  upon  him,  that  he  had  only 
just  time  to  conceal  his  amorous  epistle  among  his 
other  papers.  His  heart  and  mind  were  still  so  full  of 
what  he  was  writing  to  his  cousin,  that  her  husband's 
complaints  against  her,  at  first,  were  scarce  attended 
to;  besides,  in  his  opinion,  he  had  come  in  the  most 
unfortunate  moment  on  all  accounts. 

He  was,  however,  obliged  to  listen  to  him,  and  he 
soon  entertained  quite  different  sentiments.  He  ap- 
peared almost  petrified  with  astonishment,  while  the 
Earl  was  relating  to  him  circumstances  of  such  an 
extravagant  indiscretion,  as  seemed  to  him  quite  in- 
credible, notwithstanding  the  particulars  of  the  fact. 
"You  have  reason  to  be  surprised  at  it,"  said  my  lord, 
concluding  his  story;  "but  if  you  doubt  the  truth  of 
what  I  tell  you,  it  will  be  easy  for  you  to  find  evidence 
that  will  convince  you;  for  the  scene  of  their  tender 
familiarities  was  no  less  public  than  the  room  where 
the  Queen  plays  at  cards,  which,  while  her  Majesty 
was  at  play,  was,  God  knows,  pretty  well  crowded. 
Lady  Denham  was  the  first  who  discovered  what  they 
thought  would  pass  unperceived  in  the  crowd;  and 
you  may  very  well  judge  how  secret  she  would  keep 
such  a  circumstance.  The  truth  is,  she  addressed  her- 
self to  me  first  of  all,  as  I  entered  the  room,  to  tell 
me  that  I  should  give  my  wife  a  little  advice,  as  other 
people  might  take  notice  of  what  I  might  see  myself, 
if  I  pleased.*2 

"Your  cousin  was  at  play,  as  I  before  told  you. 
The  Duke  was  sitting  next  to  her.  I  know  not  what 

M  Dates  come  in  useful  here  to  prove  that  Lady  Denham  could 
not  have  made  this  discovery.  The  Earl  knew  of  his  wife's 
intrigue  with  the  Duke  of  York  before  ist  Jan.  1662-3  (see  Pepys, 
i  gth  January  1662-3).  Margaret  Brooke  also  was  not  married 
until  25th  May  1665  (see  also  footnote  relating  Lady  Chester- 
field's removal  from  Court,  p.  206). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  203 

was  become  of  his  hand ;  but  I  am  sure  that  no  one 
could  see  his  arm  below  the  elbow.  I  was  standing 
behind  them,  just  in  the  place  that  Lady  Denham  had 
quitted.  The  Duke,  turning  round,  perceived  me,  and 
was  so  much  disturbed  at  my  presence,  that  he  almost 
undressed  my  lady  in  pulling  away  his  hand.  I  know 
not  whether  they  perceived  that  they  were  discovered ; 
but  of  this  I  am  convinced,  that  Lady  Denham  will 
take  care  that  everybody  shall  know  it.  I  must  confess 
to  you,  that  my  embarrassment  is  so  great,  that  I  can- 
not find  words  to  express  what  I  now  feel.  I  should 
not  hesitate  one  moment  what  course  to  take,  if  I 
might  be  allowed  to  show  my  resentment  against  the 
person  who  has  wronged  me.  As  for  her,  I  could 
manage  her  well  enough,  if,  unworthy  as  she  is  of  any 
consideration,  I  had  not  still  some  regard  for  an  illus- 
trious family,  that  would  be  distracted  were  I  to  resent 
such  an  injury  as  it  deserves.  In  this  particular  you 
are  interested  yourself.  You  are  my  friend,  and  I 
make  you  my  confidant  in  an  affair  of  the  greatest 
imaginable  delicacy :  let  us  then  consult  together  what 
is  proper  to  be  done  in  so  perplexing  and  disagreeable 
a  situation." 

Hamilton,  if  possible,  more  astonished,  and  more 
confounded  than  himself,  was  far  from  being  in  a 
proper  state  to  afford  him  advice  on  the  present  oc- 
casion. He  listened  to  nothing  but  jealousy,  and 
breathed  nothing  but  revenge;  but  these  emotions 
being  somewhat  abated,  in  hopes  that  there  might  be 
calumny,  or  at  least  exaggeration  in  the  charges 
against  Lady  Chesterfield,  he  desired  her  husband  to 
suspend  his  resolutions,  until  he*3  was  more  fully  in- 
formed of  the  fact;  assuring  him,  however,  that  if 
he  found  the  circumstances  such  as  he  had  related,  he 
should  regard  and  consult  no  other  interest  than  his. 
88  Hamilton. 


204       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

Upon  this  they  parted ;  and  Hamilton  found,  on  the 
first  inquiry,  that  almost  the  whole  Court  was  in- 
formed of  the  adventure,  to  which  every  one  added 
something  in  relating  it.  Vexation  and  resentment 
inflamed  his  heart,  and  by  degrees  extinguished  every 
remnant  of  his  former  passion. 

He  might  easily  have  seen  her,  and  have  made  her 
such  reproaches  as  a  man  is  generally  inclined  to  do  on 
such  occasions ;  but  he  was  too  much  enraged  to  enter 
into  any  detail  which  might  have  led  to  an  explana- 
tion. He  considered  himself  as  the  only  person  es- 
sentially injured  in  this  affair;  for  he  could  never 
bring  his  mind  to  think  that  the  injuries  of  the  hus- 
band could  be  placed  in  competition  with  those  of 
the  lover. 

He  hastened  to  Lord  Chesterfield,  in  the  transport 
of  his  passion,  and  told  him  that  he  had  heard  enough 
to  induce  him  to  give  such  advice  as  he  should  follow 
himself  in  the  same  situation,  and  that  if  he  wished  to 
save  a  woman  so  strongly  prepossessed,  and  who  per- 
haps had  not  yet  lost  all  her  innocence,  though  she  had 
totally  lost  her  reason,  he  ought  not  to  delay  one  single 
instant,  but  immediately  to  carry  her  into  the  country 
with  the  greatest  possible  expedition,  without  allowing 
her  the  least  time  to  recover  her  surprise. 

Lord  Chesterfield  readily  agreed  to  follow  his  ad- 
vice, which  he  had  already  considered  as  the  only 
counsel  a  friend  could  give  him ;  but  his  lady,  who  did 
not  suspect  he  had  made  this  last  discovery  of  her 
conduct,  thought  he  was  joking  with  her  when  he  told 
her  to  prepare  for  going  into  the  country  in  two  days. 
She  was  the  more  induced  to  think  so  as  it  was  in  the 
very  middle  of  an  extremely  severe  winter;  but  she 
soon  perceived  that  he  was  in  earnest ;  she  knew  from 
the  air  and  manner  of  her  husband  that  he  thought  he 
had  sufficient  reason  to  treat  her  in  this  imperious 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  205 

style;  and  finding  all  her  relations  serious  and  cold  to 
her  complaint,  she  had  no  hope  left  in  this  universally 
abandoned  situation  but  in  the  tenderness  of  Hamilton. 
She  imagined  she  should  hear  from  him  the  cause  of 
her  misfortunes,  of  which  she  was  still  totally  ignorant, 
and  that  his  love  would  invent  some  means  or  other  to 
prevent  a  journey,  which  she  flattered  herself  would  be 
even  more  affecting  to  him  than  to  herself;  but  she 
was  expecting  pity  from  a  crocodile. 

At  last,  when  she  saw  the  eve  of  her  departure  was 
come;  that  every  preparation  was  made  for  a  long 
journey;  that  she  was  receiving  farewell  visits  in 
form,  and  that  still  she  heard  nothing  from  Hamilton, 
both  her  hopes  and  her  patience  forsook  her  in  this 
wretched  situation.  A  few  tears  perhaps  might  have 
afforded  her  some  relief,  but  she  chose  rather  to  deny 
herself  that  comfort  than  to  give  her  husband  so  much 
satisfaction.  Hamilton's  conduct  on  this  occasion  ap- 
peared to  her  unaccountable ;  and  as  he  still  never  came 
near  her,  she  found  means  to  convey  to  him  the  fol- 
lowing billet : 

"Is  it  possible  that  you  should  be  one  of  those,  who, 
without  vouchsafing  to  tell  me  for  what  crime  I  am 
treated  like  a  slave,  suffer  me  to  be  dragged  from 
society  ?  What  means  your  silence  and  indolence  in  a 
juncture  wherein  your  tenderness  ought  most  particu- 
larly to  appear,  and  actively  exert  itself?  I  am  upon 
the  point  of  departing,  and  am  ashamed  to  think  that 
you  are  the  cause  of  my  looking  upon  it  with  horror, 
as  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  you  are  less  concerned 
at  it  than  any  other  person.  Do,  at  least,  let  me  know 
to  what  place  I  am  to  be  dragged ;  what  is  to  be  done 
with  me  within  a  wilderness ;  and  on  what  account  you, 
like  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  appear  changed  in  your 
behaviour  towards  a  person  whom  all  the  world  could 
not  oblige  to  change  with  regard  to  you,  if  your  weak- 


206        THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

ness  or  your  ingratitude  did  not  render  you  unworthy 
of  her  tenderness." 

This  billet  did  but  harden  his  heart,  and  make  him 
more  proud  of  his  vengeance.  He  swallowed  down 
full  draughts  of  pleasure  in  beholding  her  reduced  to 
despair,  being  persuaded  that  her  grief  and  regret  for 
her  departure  were  on  account  of  another  person.  He 
felt  uncommon  satisfaction  in  having  a  share  in  tor- 
menting her,  and  was  particularly  pleased  with  the 
scheme  he  had  contrived  to  separate  her  from  a  rival, 
upon  the  very  point  perhaps  of  being  made  happy. 
Thus  fortified  as  he  was  against  his  natural  tenderness, 
with  all  the  severity  of  jealous  resentment,  he  saw  her 
depart  with  an  indifference  which  he  did  not  even  en- 
deavour to  conceal  from  her.  This  unexpected  treat- 
ment, joined  to  the  complication  of  her  other  mis- 
fortunes, had  almost  in  reality  plunged  her  into 
despair. 

The  Court  was  filled  with  the  story  of  this  ad- 
venture; nobody  was  ignorant  of  the  occasion  of  this 
sudden  departure,"  but  very  few  approved  of  Lord 

84  On  3rd  November  1662  Pepys  hears  from  the  Duke  of  York's 
surgeon  Pierce,  "  how  the  Duke  of  York  is  smitten  in  love  with 
my  Lady  Chesterfield  (a  virtuous  lady,  daughter  to  my  Lord  of 
Orrriond),  and  so  much  that  the  Duchess  of  York  hath  com- 
plained to  the  King  and  her  father  about  it,  and  my  Lady 
Chesterfield  is  gone  into  the  country  for  it."  It  must  have  been 
only  a  temporary  removal  from  London,  for,  according  to  Gra- 
mont,  she  was  in  town  when  the  Russian  Ambassador  was  in 
London  in  December  (1662)  and  the  following  January.  On  ipth 
January  1662-3  Pepys  says :  "  This  day  by  Dr.  Clarke  I  was  told 
the  occasion  of  my  Lord  Chesterfield's  going  and  taking  his  lady 
(my  Lord  Ormond's  daughter)  from  Court.  It  seems  he  not 
only  hath  been  long  jealous  of  the  Duke  of  York,  but  did  find 
them  two  talking  together,  though  there  were  others  in  the  room, 
and  the  lady  by  all  opinions  a  most  good,  virtuous  woman.  He, 
the  next  day  (of  which  the  Duke  was  warned  by  somebody  that 
saw  the  passion  my  Lord  Chesterfield  was  in  the  night  before) 
went  and  told  the  Duke  how  much  he  did  apprehend  himself 
wronged,  in  his  picking  out  his  lady  of  the  whole  Court  to  be 
the  subject  of  his  dishonour;  which  the  Duke  did  answer  with 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  207 

Chesterfield's  conduct.  In  England  they  looked  with 
astonishment  upon  a  man  who  could  be  so  uncivil  as 
to  be  jealous  of  his  wife;  and  in  the  city  of  London 
it  was  a  prodigy,  till  that  time  unknown,  to  see  a  hus- 
band have  recourse  to  violent  means  to  prevent  what 
jealousy  fears,  and  what  it  always  deserves.  They 
endeavoured,  however,  to  excuse  poor  Lord  Chester- 
field, as  far  as  they  could  safely  do  it,  without  incur- 
ring the  public  odium,  by  laying  all  the  blame  on  his 
bad  education.  This  made  all  the  mothers  vow  to  God 
that  none  of  their  sons  should  ever  set  a  foot  in  Italy, 
lest  they  should  bring  back  with  them  that  infamous 
custom  of  laying  restraint  upon  their  wives. 

As  this  story  for  a  long  time  took  up  the  attention 
of  the  Court,  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  who  was  not 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  all  the  particulars,  in- 
veighed more  bitterly  than  all  the  citizens  of  London 
put  together  against  this  tyranny ;  and  it  was  upon  this 
occasion  that  he  produced  new  words  to  that  fatal 
saraband  which  had  unfortunately  so  great  a  share  in 
the  adventure.  The  Chevalier  passed  for  the  author; 
but  if  Saint-Evremond  had  any  part  in  the  composi- 
tion, it  certainly  was  greatly  inferior  to  his  other 
performances,  as  the  reader  will  see  in  the  following 
chapter. 

great  calmness,  not  seeming  to  understand  the  reason  of  com- 
plaint, and  that  was  all  that  passed :  but  my  Lord  did  presently 
pack  his  lady  into  the  country  in  Derbyshire  near  the  Peake, 
which  is  become  a  proverb  at  Court  to  send  a  man's  wife  to 
the  Devil's-Peake  when  she  vexes  him."  Lord  Chesterfield  and 
his  wife  set  out  for  his  country  seat  (Bretby)  I2th  May  1663 
(vide  books  in  the  Lord  Steward's  office),  where  he  remained 
with  his  wife  throughout  the  summer  (see  Letters  of  Philip,  Earl 
of  Chesterfield,  p.  25).  • 


CHAPTER    IX 

EVERY  man  who  believes  that  his  honour  de- 
pends upon  that  of  his  wife  is  a  fool  who 
torments  himself,  and  drives  her  to  despair; 
but  he  who,  being  naturally  jealous,  has  the  additional 
misfortune  of  loving  his  wife,  and  who  expects  that 
she  should  only  live  for  him,  is  a  perfect  madman, 
whom  the  torments  of  hell  have  actually  taken  hold 
of  in  this  world,  and  whom  nobody  pities.  All  rea- 
soning and  observation  on  these  unfortunate  circum- 
stances attending  wedlock  concur  in  this,  that  precau- 
tion is  vain  and  useless  before  the  evil,  and  revenge 
odious  afterwards. 

The  Spaniards,  who  tyrannise  over  their  wives, 
more  by  custom  than  from  jealousy,  content  them- 
selves with  preserving  the  niceness  of  their  honour  by 
duennas,  grates,  and  locks.  The  Italians,  who  are 
wary  in  their  suspicions,  and  vindictive  in  their  resent- 
ments, pursue  a  different  line  of  conduct:  some  satisfy 
themselves  with  keeping  their  wives  under  locks  which 
they  think  secure ;  others  by  ingenious  precautions  ex- 
ceed whatever  the  Spaniards  can  invent  for  confining 
the  fair  sex ;  but  the  generality  are  of  opinion,  that  in 
either  unavoidable  danger  or  in  manifest  transgres- 
sion, the  surest  way  is  to  assassinate. 

But,  ye  courteous  and  indulgent  nations,  who,  far 

from  admitting  these  savage  and  barbarous  customs, 

give  full  liberty  to  your  dear  ribs,1  and  commit  the 

care  of  their  virtue  to  their  own  discretion,  you  pass 

'And  better  halves  (Vizetelly's  translation). 

208 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  209 

your  peaceful  days  without  alarms  or  strife,  in  all  the 
enjoyments  of  domestic  indolence! 

It  was  certainly  some  evil  genius  that  induced  Lord 
Chesterfield  to  distinguish  himself  from  his  patient 
and  good-natured  countrymen,  and  ridiculously  to 
afford  the  world  an  opportunity  of  examining  into 
the  particulars  of  an  adventure  which  would  perhaps 
never  have  been  known  beyond  the  precincts  of  the 
Court,  and  which  would  everywhere  have  been  for- 
gotten in  less  than  a  month ;  but  now,  as  soon  as  ever 
he  had  turned  his  back,  in  order  to  march  away  with 
his  prisoner,  and  the  ornaments  she  was  supposed  to 
have  bestowed  upon  him,  God  only  knows  what  a  ter- 
rible attack  there  was  made  upon  his  rear.  Rochester,2 

2  John  Wilmot,  second  Earl  of  Rochester,  son  of  Henry  Wil- 
mot,  first  Earl,  who  followed  King  Charles  in  his  adventurous 
wanderings  after  the  battle  of  Worcester:1    John's  mother   (his 
father's   second  wife)    was  the   widow   of    Sir    F.    H.    Lee,    of 
Ditchley  Park,   Oxfordshire,  where  John  was  born,  loth  April 
1647   (the  seat  of  the  Wilmots  was  at  Adderbury,  in  the  same 
county2).     He  succeeded  to  the  title,  Qth  February  1657-8.     Edu- 
cated at  Burford,  he  was  admitted  a  Fello.w  of  Wadham  College, 
Oxford,  in  January  1659-60,  and  created  M.A.  in  1661.     On  leav- 
ing the  University  he  travelled  in  France  and  Italy  under  the 
care  of  Dr.  Balfour,  who  encouraged  his  love  of  literature.     On 
returning  from  his  travels  in  1664,  he  made  his  appearance  at 
Court,  where  his  natural  brilliancy  and  wit  had  free  scope  for 
development.    Though  at  first  modest,  he  soon  became  corrupted 
by  the  King  and  his  dissolute  companions,  whom  soon  he  rivalled 
in  debauchery.     Two  years  afterwards  he  was  made  Gentleman 
of  the  King's  Bedchamber,  and  in  1674,  Keeper  of  Woodstock 
Park,  where  (at  the  High  Lodge)  he  died  26th  July  1681,*  after 
two  years'  failing  health,  resulting  from  his  debauched  way  of 
living.     Bishop  Burnet  was  with  him  for  four  days  prior  to  his 
death,  and,  according  to  the  book  he  published  afterwards,  brought 
him  to  a  right  way  of  thinking  (see  Burnet's  Life  of  Rochester). 
His  wife,  "  La  triste  heritiere,"  survived  him  a  little  over  a  year, 
and  his  son4  Charles,  the  third  Earl  of  the  Wilmots   (then  aged 
ten  years)  only  five  months.     (Some  of  Rochester's  letters  to  his 
wife  and  son  have  been  published  in  Chambers's  English  Litera- 
ture).   Gibber  records  the  fact  that  Rochester  wrote  a  scandalous 

1  See  Tlie  Flight  of  the  KinK.  *  Ibid. 

3  Buried   at   Spilsbury  Church,  near  Ditchley  (see  Picturesque    Old  Houses, 
Pp.  143-144).  *  There  were  three  daughters. 


210       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

Middlesex,1  Sedley,4  Etherege,"  and  all  the  whole  band 
of  wits,  exposed  him  in  numberless  ballads,  and  di- 
verted the  public  at  his  expense. 

history  of  contemporary  Court  intrigu'es,  which  was  burnt  by  his 
mother's  directions  after  his  death.  He  gained  most  of  his  in- 
information  from  a  footman  whom  he  disguised  as  a  sentinel  to 
keep  nocturnal  watch  at  the  apartments  of  the  various  Court 
ladies  of  whom  he  had  his  suspicions  (vide  Burnet's  Own  Time). 
Most  of  his  poems  and  plays  are  mentioned  in  the  article  in  the 
Diet,  of  Nat.  Biography,  from  which  much  of  the  above  has 
been  quoted  (vol.  Ixii.  pp.  63-67).  There  are  various  stories  of 
Rochester's  wild  exploits,  disguised  as  a  beggar,  porter,  mounte- 
bank, etc.,  as  the  freak  might  require,  and  on  one  occasion  he 
and  Buckingham  took  an  inn  near  Newmarket,  where  they  had 
many  opportunities  for  amorous  intrigues  (vide  Works  of  the 
Earls  of  Rochester  and  Roscommon). 

*At  this  time  the  Earl  of  Middlesex  was  Lionel,  who  died  in 
1674.  The  person  intended  by  our  author  was  Charles,  then  Lord 
Buckhurst,  eldest  son  of  Richard,  fifth  Earl  of  Dorset,  after- 
wards Earl  of  Middlesex,  and,  lastly,  Duke  of  Dorset,  b.  1637,  ob. 
January  1705-6.  Bishop  Burnet  says  he  "was  a  generous, 
good-natured  man.  He  was  so  oppressed  with  phlegm,  that,  till 
he  was  a  little  heated  with  wine,  he  scarce  ever  spoke ;  but  he 
was,  upon  that  exaltation,  a  very  lively  man.  Never  was  so  much 
ill-nature  in  a  pen  as  in  his,  joined  with  so  much  good-nature  as 
was  in  himself,  even  to  excess ;  for  he  was  against  all  punishing, 
even  of  malefactors.  He  was  bountiful,  even  to  run  himself  into 
difficulties,  and  charitable  to  a  fault ;  for  he  commonly  gave  all  he 
had  about  him  when  he  met  an  object  that  moved  him.  But  he 
was  so  lazy,  that,  though  the  King  seemed  to  court  him  to  be  a 
favourite,  he  would  not  give  himself  the  trouble  that  belonged 
to  that  post.  He  hated  the  Court,  and  despised  the  King,  when 
he  saw  he  was  neither  generous  nor  tender-hearted "  (History 
of  his  Own  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  370).  Lord  Orford  says  of  him,  that 
"  he  was  the  finest  gentleman  of  the  voluptuous  Court  of  Charles 
the  Second,  and  in  the  gloomy  one  of  King  William.  He  had 
as  much  wit  as  his  first  master,  or  his  contemporaries,  Bucking- 
ham and  Rochester,  without  the  royal  want  of  feeling,  the  Duke's 
want  of  principles,  or  the  Earl's  want  of  thought.  The  latter 
said,  with  astonishment,  '  that  he  did  not  know  how  it  was, 
but  Lord  Dorset  might  do  anything  and  yet  was  never  to 
blame.'  It  was  not  that  he  was  free  from  the  failings  of  hu- 
manity, but  he  had  the  tenderness  of  it  too,  which  made  every- 
body excuse  whom  everybody  loved ;  for  even  the  asperity  of 
his  verses  seems  to  have  been  forgiven  too. 

"  '  The  best  good  man,  with  the  worst-natured  muse.' " 

Noble  Authors,  vol.  ii.  p.  96. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  211 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  was  highly  pleased  with 
these  lively  and  humorous  compositions;  and  where- 
ever  this  subject  was  mentioned,  never  failed  to  pro- 
duce his  supplement  upon  the  occasion.  "It  is 
strange,"  said  he,  "that  the  country,  which  is  little 
better  than  a  gallows  or  a  grave  for  young  people, 
is  allotted  in  this  land  only  for  the  unfortunate,  and 

Pepys  records  (i3th  July  1667)  that  my  Lord  Buckhurst  hath 
got  Nell  away  from  the  King's  House,  and  gives  her  £100  a  year. 
Next  day,  at  the  King's  Head,  Epsom,  he  hears  that  the  two  are 
lodging  in  the  next  house  with  Sedley.  In  the  following  August 
(26th),  Nell  had  left  Buckhurst,  and  was  back  at  the  playhouse 
again  (Diary).  [The  house  at  Epsom  above  alluded  to  is  occu- 
pied as  a  grocer's  shop.  The  rooms  Nelly  occupied,  according 
to  the  tradition,  are  those  with  little  bay  windows,  looking  into 
the  street.  The  interior  has  been  modernised.] 

4  Sir  Charles  Sedley,  son  of  Sir  John  Sedley  of  Southfleet,  and 
Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Savile,  was  born  at  Aylesford, 
Kent,  about  the  year  1639.  Sedley  marriecl,  in  1657,  Catherine, 
daughter  of  John  Savage,  Earl  Rivers,  by  whom  he  had  one 
daughter,  Catherine,  who  became  James  II. 's  mistress,  and  was 
created  Countess  of  Dorchester.  Sir  Charles  retired  from  town 
life  after  the  death  of  Charles  II.,  and  warmly  espoused  the  cause 
of  William  of  Orange  at  the  Revolution.  Pepys  gives  glimpses  of 
Sedley's  debaucheries,  for  which  he  was  notorious.  As  a  wit  and 
author  of  amorous  lyrics  he  was  less  sparkling  and  obscene  than 
Rochester.  Charles  II.  dubbed  him  "  Apollo's  Viceroy,"  and  Dry- 
den — "  The  Tibullus  of  the  Age."  His  plays  are,  Anthony  and 
Cleopatra,  The  Mulberry  Garden,  and  Bellamira  or  the  Mistress. 
He  died  20th  August  1701.  Rochester's  lines  on  Sedley's  seduc- 
tive verse  are  well  known.  (See  also  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biography.) 

6  Sir  George  Etherege,  born  1634,  knighted  1680,  author  of  the 
Comedies,  The  Comical  Revenge,  She  Would  if  She  Could,  and 
Sir  Flopling  Flutter.  The  hero  of  the  last,  according  to  Dean 
Lockier,  was  an  exact  portrait  of  Etherege  himself,  while  the 
character  of  Dormant,  in  the  same  play,  was  a  picture  of  Ethe- 
rege's  boon  companion,  John  Wilmot,  Earl  of  Rochester.  These 
two  libertines,  with  William  Jepson  and  Mr.  Downes,  were  con- 
cerned in  a  midnight  brawl  with  the  watch  at  Epsom,  in  1676, 
wherein  the  last  was  killed,  and  they  had  to  abscond.  When  James 
came  to  the  throne,  Etherege  was  sent  as  Ambassador  to  Vienna, 
Hamburgh,  and  Ratisbon.  His  letter  book  of  the  last  place  gives 
an  insight  into  his  loose  way  of  living.  He,  however,  was  loyal 
to  his  master,  as  may  be  seen  from  two  interesting  letters  (pre- 
served at  Netherby  Hall,  Cumberland)  to  Lord  Preston,  at  the 
time  of  the  King's  abdication.  From  Ratisbon,  Etherege  removed 


212        THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

not  for  the  guilty !  Poor  Lady  Chesterfield,  for  some 
unguarded  looks,  is  immediately  seized  upon  by  an 
angry  husband,  who  will  oblige  her  to  spend  her 
Christmas  at  a  country-house  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
from  London;  while  here  there  are  a  thousand  ladies 
who  are  left  at  liberty  to  do  whatever  they  please,  and 
who  indulge  in  that  liberty,  and  whose  conduct,  in 
short,  deserves  a  daily  bastinado.  I  name  no  person 
— God  forbid  I  should;  but  Lady  Middleton,  Lady 
Denham,  the  Queen's  and  the  Duchess's  maids  of 
honour,  and  a  hundred  others,  bestow  their  favours  to 
the  right  and  to  the  left,  and  not  the  least  notice  is 
taken  of  their  conduct.  As  for  Lady  Shrewsbury,"  she 
is  conspicuous.  I  would  take  a  wager  she  might  have 
a  man  killed  for  her  every  day,  and  she  would  only 
hold  her  head  the  higher  for  it.  One  would  suppose 
she  imported  from  Rome  plenary  indulgences  for  her 
conduct.  There  are  three  or  four  gentlemen  who  wear 
an  ounce  of  her  hair  made  into  bracelets,  and  no  per- 
son finds  any  fault ;  and  yet  shall  such  a  cross-grained 
fool  as  Chesterfield  be  permitted  to  exercise  an  act  of 
tyranny,  altogether  unknown  in  this  country,  upon  the 
prettiest  woman  in  England,  and  all  for  a  mere  trifle. 
But  I  am  his  humble  servant ;  his  precautions  will  avail 

to  Paris,  where  his  death  occurred,  like  his  contemporary  Lord 
Lovelace,  from  a  tumble  downstairs  while  in  a  state  of  intoxica- 
tion (January  1690-1).  He  left  a  widow,  but  no  legitimate  issue. 
He  is  said  to  have  left  a  legacy  to  a  natural  daughter,  by  the 
actress,  Elizabeth  Barry.  According  to  Rochester,  Etherege  had 
as  much  "  fancy,  sense,  judgment,  and  wit,"  as  any  writer  of  the 
day.  (See  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biography,  vol.  xviii.  p.  44;  Add.  MSS. 
(B.M.),  No.  11,513;  Gosse's  Seventeenth  Century  Studies,  and 
Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.,  p.  428,  467.) 

8  At  this  time,  when  Louis  XIV.  was  negotiating  his  second 
Secret  Treaty  with  Charles  II.  (February  1670-1),  by  the  Earl 
of  Arlington's  suggestion,  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury  was 
bribed  with  10,000  livres  "  in  order  to  fix  Buckingham  the 
better."  Upon  the  receipt  the  lady  said  "  she  would  make  Buck- 
ingham comply  with  King  Charles  in  all  things "  (vide  Dal- 
rymple's  Memoirs,  1773,  App.,  pp.  81-82). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  213 

him  nothing;  on  the  contrary,  very  often  a  woman, 
who  had  no  bad  intentions  when  she  was  suffered  to 
remain  in  tranquillity,  is  prompted  to  such  conduct  by 
revenge,  or  reduced  to  it  by  necessity:  this  is  as  true 
as  the  gospel.  Hear  now  what  Francisco's  saraband 
says  on  the  subject : 

"  Tell  me,  jealous-pated  swain, 

What  avail  thy  idle  arts, 

To  divide  united  hearts? 

Love,  like  the  wind,  I  trow, 

Will,  where  it  listeth,  blow ; 
So,  prithee,  peace,  for  all  thy  cares  are  vain. 

"  When  you  are  by, 

Nor  wishful  look,  be  sure,  nor  eloquent  sigh, 
Shall  dare  those  inward  fires  discover, 
Which  burn  in  either  lover : 
Yet  Argus'  self,  if  Argus  were  thy  spy, 

Should  ne'er,  with  all  his  mob  of  eyes, 
Surprise. 

"  Some  joys  forbidden, 

Transports  hidden, 

Which  love,  through  dark  and  secret  ways, 
Mysterious  love,  to  kindred  souls  conveys." 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  passed  for  the  author 
of  this  sonnet.  Neither  the  justness  of  the  sentiment, 
nor  turn  of  it,  are  surprisingly  beautiful;  but  as  it 
contained  some  truths  that  flattered  the  genius  of  the 
nation,  and  pleased  those  who  interested  themselves 
for  the  fair  sex,  the  ladies  were  all  desirous  of  having 
them  to  teach  them  to  their  children. 

During  all  this  time  the  Duke  of  York,  not  being 
in  the  way  of  seeing  Lady  Chesterfield,  easily  forgot 
her.  Her  absence,  however,  had  some  circumstances 
attending  it  which  could  not  but  sensibly  affect  the 
person  who  had  occasioned  her  confinement ;  but  there 
are  certain  fortunate  tempers  to  which  every  situation 
is  easy;  they  feel  neither  disappointment  with  bitter- 
ness, nor  pleasure  with  acuteness.  In  the  meantime, 


214       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

as  the  Duke  could  not  remain  idle,  he  had  no  sooner 
forgotten  Lady  Chesterfield,  but  he  began  to  think  of 
her  whom  he  had  been  in  love  with  before,  and  was 
upon  the  point  of  relapsing  into  his  old  passion  for 
Miss  Hamilton. 

There  was  in  London  a  celebrated  portrait-painter 
named  Lely,7  who  had  greatly  improved  himself  by 
studying  the  famous  Vandyke's  pictures,  which  were 

1  Sir  Peter  Lely,  the  principal  painter  of  Charles  II. 's  reign, 
was  born  at  Soest  in  Holland,  and  studied  under  Grebber  at 
Haerlem.  His  real  name  was  Van  der  Faes,  his  father  being 
a  captain  in  the  infantry.  He  came  to  England  in  1643,  and  was 
received  with  favour  at  Court,  where  he  painted  many  portraits ; 
but  it  was  in  the  reign  of  the  second  Charles  that  he  became 
particularly  famous  for  his  portraits  of  the  ladies  of  the  Court, 
some  of  the  best  examples  of  which  are  the  well-known  Beauties 
at  Hampton  Court.  Althorp  also  possesses  some  of  his  best 
work.  In  comparing  Lely's  painting  with  Vandyke's,  Walpole 
contrasts  the  formal  drapery  of  the  latter  with  the  fantastic 
night-gown  raiments  of  the  former.  "  Whether  the  age  was 
improved  in  beauty  or  in  flattery,"  he  adds,  "  Lely's  women  are 
certainly  much  handsomer  than  those  of  Vandyck.  They  please 
as  much  more  as  they  evidently  meaned  to  please."  But  for  all 
that,  there  is  a  sameness  in  the  Court  painter's  wom'en  which  is 
unmistakable ;  whether  it  is  the  "  sleepy  eye  and  melting  soul," 
of  which  doubtless  Lady  Castlemaine  set  the  fashion,  that  was 
of  more  importance  than  any  particular  characteristic  expression 
in  a  face ;  or  whether  the  great  demand  for  the  painter's  work 
introduced  into  his  portraits  so  striking  a  similarity,  we  cannot 
undertake  to  say.  Undoubtedly,  many  inferior  pictures  attributed 
to  Lely  are  not  by  him  at  all,  and  for  this  reason  he  has  been 
blamed  for  executing  some  very  indifferent  brushwork.  Every 
house  of  any  , pretensions  had  to  possess  a  few  of  the  famous 
Court  beauties,  and  doubtl'ess  there  were  many  inferior  artists 
to  supply  the  demand  and  execute  weak  imitations  in  Lely's  style. 

Pepys  records  that  Lely  | lived  in  great  state  and  was  "mighty 
proud."  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  some  of  the  best-known  of 
the  artist's  portraits  were  seen  in  his  studio  at  Coyent  Garden, 
or  in  the  Royal  apartments  at  Whitehall  by  the  diarist,  at  the 
actual  time  the  living  representatives  Were  giving  the  painter  a 
sitting,  and,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  the  likeness  was  ap- 
proved by  this  somewhat  captious  critic.  The  last  painting  by 
Lely  was  the  handsomest  of  all  the  "  Beauties,"  the  Dudress  of 
Somerset.  While  engaged  upon  this,  he  died  suddenly  (in  1680). 
He  was  buried  in  Coyent  Garden  Church,  where  his  bust  may 
be  seen,  carved  by  Grinling  Gibbons. 


dispersed  all  over  England  in  abundance.  Lely  imi- 
tated Vandyke's  manner,  and  approached  the  nearest 
to  him  of  all  the  moderns.  The  Duchess  of  York, 
being  desirous  of  having  the  portraits  of  the  hand- 
somest persons  at  Court,  Lely  painted  them,  and  em- 
ployed all  his  skill  in  the  performance;  nor  could  he 
ever  exert  himself  upon  more  beautiful  subjects. 
Every  picture  looked  a  masterpiece ;  and  that  of  Miss 
Hamilton  appeared  the  highest  finished :  Lely  himself 
acknowledged  that  he  had  drawn  it  with  particular 
pleasure. 

The  Duke  of  York  took  a  delight  in  looking  at  it, 
and  began  again  to  ogle  the  original.  He  had  very 
little  reason  to  hope  for  success ;  and  at  the  same  time 
that  his  hopelesss  passion  alarmed  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont,  Lady  Denham  thought  proper  to  renew  the 
negotiation  which  had  so  unluckily  been  interrupted. 
It  was  soon  brought  to  a  conclusion;  for  where  both 
parties  are  sincere  in  a  negotiation,  no  time  is  lost 
in  cavilling."  Everything  succeeded  prosperously  on 
one  side;  yet,  I  know  not  what  fatality  obstructed 
the  pretensions  of  the  other.  The  Duke  was  very 
urgent  with  the  Duchess  to  put  Lady  Denham  in  pos- 
session of  the  place  which  was  the  object  of  her  am- 

"Pepys  (loth  June  1666)  says,  on  the  authority  of  Pierce  thfe 
surgeon,  that  "  the  Duke  of  York  is  wholly  given  up  to  his  new 
mistress,  my  Lady  Denham,  going  at  noon-day  with  all  his  gen- 
tlemen with  him  to  visit  her  in  Scotland  Yard,  she  declaring  she 
will  not  be  his  mistress  as  Mrs.  Price,  to  go  up  and  down  the 
privy  stairs,  but  will  be  owned  publicly,  and  so  she  is.  Mr. 
Bruncker,  it  seems,  was  the  pimp  to  bring  it  about."  On  26th 
September  (1666)  he  writes:  "Here  (Whitehall)  I  had  the  hap 
to  see  my  Lady  Denham,  and  at  night  went  into  the  dining-room 
and  saw  several  fine  ladies,  among  others  Castlemayne,  but 
chiefly  Denham  again,  and  the  Duke  of  York  taking  her  aside  and 
talking  to  her  in  the  sight  of  all  the  world,  all  alone,  which  was 
strange,  and  what  also  I  did  not  like.  Here  I  met  with  good 
Mr.  Evelyn,  who  cries  out  against  it,  and  calls  it  bitchering,  for 
the  Duke  of  York  talks  a  little  to  her,  and  then  she  goes  away, 
and  then  he  follows  her  again  like  a  dog."  There  are  other 


216       THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

bition;  but  as  she  was  not  guarantee  for  the  perform- 
ance of  the  secret  articles  of  the  treaty,  though  till  this 
time  she  had  borne  with  patience  the  inconstancy  of 
the  Duke,  and  yielded  submissively  to  his  desires ;  yet, 
in  the  present  instance,  it  appeared  hard  and  dishon- 
ourable to  her  to  entertain  near  her  person  a  rival,  who 
would  expose  her  to  the  danger  of  acting  but  a  second 
part  in  the  midst  of  her  own  court  However,  she 
saw  herself  upon  the  point  of  being  forced  to  it  by 
authority,  when  a  far  more  unfortunate  obstacle  for 
ever  bereft  poor  Lady  Denham  of  the  hopes  of  pos- 
sessing that  fatal  place,  which  she  had  solicited  with 
such  eagerness. 

Old  Denham,  naturally  jealous,  became  more  and 
more  suspicious,  and  found  that  he  had  sufficient 
ground  for  such  conduct.  His  wife  was  young  and 
handsome,  he  old  and  disagreeable :  what  reason  then 
had  he  to  flatter  himself  that  Heaven  would  exempt 
him  from  the  fate  of  husbands  in  the  like  circum- 
stances? This  he  was  continually  saying  to  himself; 
but  when  compliments  were  poured  in  upon  him  from 
all  sides,  upon  the  place  his  lady  was  going  to  have 
near  the  Duchess's  person,  he  formed  ideas  of  what 
was  sufficient  to  have  made  him  hang  himself,  if  he 
had  possessed  the  resolution.  The  traitor  chose  rather 
to  exercise  his  courage  against  another.  He  wanted 
precedents  for  putting  in  practice  his  resentments  in 
a  privileged  country:  that  of  Lord  Chesterfield  was 
not  sufficiently  bitter  for  the  revenge  he  meditated; 
besides,  he  had  no  country-house  to  which  Jie  could 

brief  entries  of  the  same  nature,  and  on  loth  November  Pepys 
says :  "  My  Lady  Denham  is  exceeding  sick  even  to  death,  and 
that  she  says  and  everybody  else  discourses  that  she  is  poisoned." 
Though  reported  dead  on  I2th  November,  her  ladyship  rallied. 
A  month  later  (i2th  December)  she  was  still  ill,  and  on  ;th 
January  Pepys  records  her  death.  She  was  buried  at  St.  Mar- 
garet's, Westminster,  in  the  middle  of  the  chancel,  but  the  stone 
bears  no  inscription. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  217 

carry  his  unfortunate  wife.  This  being  the  case,  the 
old  villain  made  her  travel  a  much  longer  journey 
without  stirring  out  of  London.  Merciless  fate  robbed 
her  of  life,9  and  of  her  dearest  hopes,  in  the  bloom  of 
youth. 

As  no  person  entertained  any  doubt  of  his  having 
poisoned  her,  the  populace  of  his  neighbourhood  had 
a  design  of  tearing  him  in  pieces,  as  soon  as  he  should 
come  abroad,  but  he  shut  himself  up  to  bewail  her 
death,  until  their  fury  was  appeased  by  a  magnificent 
funeral,  at  which  he  distributed  four  times  more  burnt 
wine  than  had  ever  been  drunk  at  any  burial  in 
England. 

While  the  town  was  in  fear  of  some  great  disaster, 
as  an  expiation  for  these  fatal  effects  of  jealousy, 
Hamilton10  was  not  altogether  so  easy  as  he  flattered 
himself  he  should  be  after  the  departure  of  Lady 
Chesterfield.  He  had  only  consulted  the  dictates  of 
revenge  in  what  he  had  done.  His  vengeance  was 
satisfied ;  but  such  was  far  from  being  the  case  with 
his  love;  and  having,  since  the  absence  of  her  he  still 
admired,  notwithstanding  his  resentments,  leisure  to 

9  The  lampoons  of  the  day,  some  of  which  are  to  be  found  in 
Andrew  Marvell's  Works,  more  than  insinuate  that  she  was  de- 
prived of  life  by  a  mixture  infused  into  some  chocolate.     The 
slander  of  the  times  imputed  her  death  to  the  jealousy  of  the 
Duchess  of  York.     7th   January   1666-7 :   Lord   Brouncker   told 
Pepys  "  that  my  Lady  Denham  is  at  last  dead.     Some  suspect 
her  poisoned,  but  it  will  be  best  known  when  her  body  is  opened 
to-day,    she    dying    yesterday    morning.      The    Duke    of    York 
is  troubled  for  her,  but  hath  declared  he  will  never  have  another 
public  mistress  again,  which  I  .shall  be"  glad  of,  and  would  the 
King  do  the  like." 

Aubrey  says :  "  She  was  poisoned  by  the  hands  of  the  Co.  of 
Roc.  with  chocolate."  At  the  post-mortem  examination,  no  trace 
of  poison  was  found.  She  died  a  natural  death.  "  My  Lady 
Denham's  body,  at  her  own  desire,  was  opened,  but  no  sign  of 
poison  found"  (Letter  from  Lord  Orrery  to  the  Duke  of  Or- 
monde, 25th  January  1666-7,  Orrery  State  Papers,  1742,  p.  219). 
See  Cunningham's  "  Chronology  " 

10  James  Hamilton. 


218       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

make  those  reflections  which  a  recent  injury  will  not 
permit  a  man  to  attend  to :  "And  wherefore,"  said  he 
to  himself,  "was  I  so  eager  to  make  her  miserable, 
who  alone,  however  culpable  she  may  be,  has  it  in  her 
power  to  make  me  happy?  Cursed  jealousy!"  con- 
tinued he,  "yet  more  cruel  to  those  who  torment  than 
to  those  who  are  tormented !  What  have  I  gained  by 
having  blasted  the  hopes  of  a  more  happy  rival,  since 
I  was  not  able  to  perform  this  without  depriving  my- 
self, at  the  same  time,  of  her  upon  whom  the  whole 
happiness  and  comfort  of  my  life  was  centred." 

Thus,  clearly  proving  to  himself,  by  a  great  many 
reasonings  of  the  same  kind,  and  all  out  of  season, 
that  in  such  an  engagement  it  was  much  better  to  par- 
take with  another  than  to  have  nothing  at  all,  he  filled 
his  mind  with  a  number  of  vain  regrets  and  unprofit- 
able remorse,  when  he  received  a  letter  from  her  who 
occasioned  them,  but  a  letter  so  exactly  adapted  to 
increase  them,  that,  after  he  had  read  it,  he  looked 
upon  himself  as  the  greatest  scoundrel  in  the  world. 
Here  it  follows: 

"You  will,  no  doubt,  be  as  much  surprised  at  this 
letter  as  I  was  at  the  unconcerned  air  with  which  you 
beheld  my  departure.  I  am  led  to  believe  that  you 
had  imagined  reasons  which,  in  your  own  mind,  justi- 
fied such  unseasonable  conduct.  If  you  are  still  under 
the  impression  of  such  barbarous  sentiments,  it  will 
afford  you  pleasure  to  be  made  acquainted  with  what 
I  suffer  in  the  most  horrible  of  prisons.  Whatever 
the  country  affords  most  melancholy  in  this  season 
presents  itself  to  my  view  on  all  sides.  Surrounded 
by  impassable  roads,  out  of  one  window  I  see  nothing 
but  rocks,  out  of  another  nothing  but  precipices;  but 
wherever  I  turn  my  eyes  within  doors  I  meet  those  of 
a  jealous  husband,  still  more  insupportable  than  the 
sad  objects  that  encompass  me.  I  should  add  to  the 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  219 

misfortunes  of  my  life  that  of  seeming  criminal  in 
the  eyes  of  a  man  who  ought  to  have  justified  me, 
even  against  convincing  appearances,  if  by  my  avowed 
innocence  I  had  a  right  to  complain  or  to  expostulate. 
But  how  is  it  possible  for  me  to  justify  myself  at  such 
a  distance;  and  how  can  I  flatter  myself  that  the  de- 
scription of  a  most  dreadful  prison  will  not  prevent 
you  from  believing  me?  But  do  you  deserve  that  I 
should  wish  you  did  ?  Heavens !  how  I  must  hate  you 
if  I  did  not  love  you  to  distraction.  Come,  therefore, 
and  let  me  once  again  see  you,  that  you  may  hear  my 
justification;  and  I  am  convinced  that  if  after  this 
visit  you  find  me  guilty  it  will  not  be  with  respect  to 
yourself.  Our  Argus  sets  out  to-morrow  for  Chester, 
where  a  lawsuit  will  detain  him  a  week.  I  know  not 
whether  he  will  gain  it;  but  I  am  sure  it  will  be  en- 
tirely your  fault  if  he  does  not  lose  one,  for  which  he 
is  at  least  as  anxious  as  that  he  is  now  going  after." 

This  letter  was  sufficient  to  make  a  man  run  blind- 
fold into  an  adventure  still  more  rash  than  that  which 
was  proposed  to  him,  and  that  was  rash  enough  in  all 
respects.  He  could  not  perceive  by  what  means  she 
could  justify  herself;  but  as  she  assured  him  he  should 
be  satisfied  with  his  journey,  this  was  all  he  desired 
at  present. 

There  was  one  of  his  relations  with  Lady  Chester- 
field, who,  having  accompanied  her  in  her  exile,  had 
gained  some  share  in  their  mutual  confidence;  and  it 
was  through  her  means  he  received  this  letter,  with  all 
the  necessary  instructions  about  his  journey  and  his 
arrival.  Secrecy  being  the  soul  of  such  expeditions, 
especially  before  an  amour  is  accomplished,  he  took 
post,  and  set  out  in  the  night,  animated  by  the  most 
tender  and  flattering  wishes,  so  that,  in  less  than  no 
time  almost,  in  comparison  with  the  distance  and  the 
badness  of  the  roads,  he  had  travelled  a  hundred  and 


220       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

fifty  tedious  miles.  At  the  last  stage  he  prudently  dis- 
missed the  post-boy.  It  was  not  yet  daylight,  and 
therefore,  for  fear  of  the  rocks  and  precipices  men- 
tioned in  her  letter,  he  proceeded  with  tolerable  dis- 
cretion, considering  he  was  in  love. 

By  this  means  he  fortunately  escaped  all  the  dan- 
gerous places,  and,  according  to  his  instructions, 
alighted  at  a  little  hut  adjoining  the  park  wall.  The 
place  was  not  magnificent;  but,  as  he  only  wanted 
rest,  it  did  well  enough  for  that.  He  did  not  wish  for 
daylight,  and  was  even  still  less  desirous  of  being 
seen;  wherefore,  having  shut  himself  up  in  this  ob- 
scure retreat,  he  fell  into  a  profound  sleep,  and  did 
not  wake  until  noon.  As  he  was  particularly  hungry 
when  he  awoke,  he  ate  and  drank  heartily ;  and,  as  he 
was  the  neatest  man  at  Court,  and  was  expected  by  the 
neatest  lady  in  England,  he  spent  the  remainder  of  the 
day  in  dressing  himself,  and  in  making  all  those 
preparations  which  the  time  and  place  permitted,  with- 
out deigning  once  to  look  around  him,  or  to  ask  his 
landlord  a  single  question.  At  last  the  orders  he  ex- 
pected with  great  impatience  were  brought  him,  in  the 
beginning  of  the  evening,  by  a  servant,  who,  attending 
him  as  a  guide,  after  having  led  him  for  about  half  an 
hour  in  the  dirt,  through  a  park  of  vast  extent, 
brought  him  at  last  into  a  garden,  into  which  a  little 
door11  opened.  He  was  posted  exactly  opposite  to  this 
door,  by  which,  in  a  short  time,  he  was  to  be  intro- 
duced to  a  more  agreeable  situation ;  and  here  his  con- 
ductor left  him.  The  night  advanced,  but  the  door 
never  opened. 

Though    the    winter    was    almost    over,    the    cold 

weather  seemed  only  to  be  beginning.     He  was  dirtied 

up  to  his  knees  in  mud,  and  soon  perceived  that  if  he 

continued  much  longer  in  this  garden  it  would  all  be 

u  The  door  of  a  low  building  opened  (Vizetelly's  translation). 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  221 

frozen.  This  beginning  of  a  very  dark  and  bitter 
night  would  have  been  unbearable  to  any  other ;  but  it 
was  nothing  to  a  man  who  flattered  himself  to  pass 
the  remainder  of  it  in  the  height  of  bliss.  However, 
he  began  to  wonder  at  so  many  precautions  in  the  ab- 
sence of  a  husband.  His  imagination,  by  a  thousand 
delicious  and  tender  ideas,  supported  him  some  time 
against  the  torments  of  impatience  and  the  inclemency 
of  the  weather;  but  he  felt  his  imagination,  notwith- 
standing, cooling  by  degrees;  and  two  hours,  which 
seemed  to  him  as  tedious  as  two  whole  ages,  having 
passed,  and  not  the  least  notice  being  taken  of  him, 
either  from  the  door  or  from  the  window,  he  began 
to  reason  with  himself  upon  the  posture  of  his  affairs, 
and  what  was  the  fittest  conduct  for  him  to  pursue  in 
this  emergency.  "What  if  I  should  rap  at  this  cursed 
door,"  said  he;  "for  if  my  fate  requires  that  I  should 
perish,  it  is  at  least  more  honourable  to  die  in  the 
house  than  to  be  starved  to  death"  in  the  garden.  But 
then,"  continued  he,  "I  may,  thereby,  perhaps,  expose 
a  person  whom  some  unforeseen  accident  may,  at  this 
very  instant,  have  reduced  to  greater  perplexity  than 
even  I  myself  am  in."  This  thought  supplied  him 
with  a  necessary  degree  of  patience  and  fortitude 
against  the  enemies  he  had  to  contend  with ;  he  there- 
fore began  to  walk  quickly  to  and  fro,  with  resolution 
to  wait,  as  long  as  he  could  keep  alive,  the  end  of  an 
adventure  which  had  such  an  uncomfortable  begin- 
ning. All  this  was  to  no  purpose ;  for  though  he  used 
every  effort  to  keep  himself  warm,  and  though  muf- 
fled up  in  a  thick  cloak,  yet  he  began  to  be  benumbed 
in  all  his  limbs,  and  the  cold  gained  the  ascendancy 
over  all  his  amorous  vivacity  and  eagerness.  Day- 
break was  not  far  off,  and  judging  now  that,  though 
the  accursed  door  should  even  be  opened,  it  would  be 
18  Perish  of  cold  (Vizetelly's  translation). 


222        THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

to  no  purpose,  he  returned,  as  well  as  he  could,  to  the 
place  from  whence  he  had  set  out  upon  this  wonderful 
expedition. 

All  the  faggots  that  were  in  the  cottage  were  hardly 
able  to  unfreeze  him.  The  more  he  reflected  on  his 
adventure,  the  circumstances  attending  it  appeared  still 
the  more  strange  and  unaccountable;  but  so  far  from 
accusing  the  charming  Countess,  he  suffered  a  thou- 
sand different  anxieties  on  her  account.  Sometimes  he 
imagined  that  her  husband  might  have  returned  unex- 
pectedly; sometimes,  that  she  might  suddenly  have 
been  taken  ill ;  in  short,  that  some  insuperable  obstacle 
had  unluckily  interposed,  and  prevented  his  happiness, 
notwithstanding  his  mistress's  kind  intentions  towards 
him.  "But  wherefore,"  said  he,  "did  she  forget  me 
in  that  cursed  garden?  Is  it  possible  that  she  could 
not  find  a  single  moment  to  make  me  at  least  some 
sign  or  other,  if  she  could  neither  speak  to  me  nor 
give  me  admittance?"  He  knew  not  which  of  these 
conjectures  to  rely  upon,  or  how  to  answer  his  own 
questions;  but  as  he  flattered  himself  that  everything 
would  succeed  better  the  next  night,  after  having 
vowed  not  to  set  foot  again  into  that  unfortunate 
garden,  he  gave  orders  to  be  awakened  as  soon  as  any 
person  should  inquire  for  him.  Then  he  laid  himself 
down  in  one  of  the  worst  beds  in  the  wrorld,  and  slept 
as  sound  as  if  he  had  been  in  the  best.  He  supposed 
that  he  should  not  be  awakened,  except  either  by  a 
letter  or  a  message  from  Lady  Chesterfield ;  but  he  had 
scarce  slept  two  hours  when  he  was  aroused  by  the 
sound  of  the  horn  and  the  cry  of  the  hounds.  The  hut 
which  afforded  him  a  retreat,  joining,  as  we  before 
said,  to  the  park  wall,  he  called  his  host,  to  know 
what  was  the  occasion  of  that  hunting,  which  made  a 
noise  as  if  the  whole  pack  of  hounds  had  been  in  his 
bedchamber.  He  was  told  that  it  was  my  lord  hunting 


COUNT   DE*  GRAMONT  223 

a  hare  in  his  park.  "What  lord?"  said  he,  in  great 
surprise.  "The  Earl  of  Chesterfield,"  replied  the 
peasant.  He  was  so  astonished  at  this  that  at  first 
he  hid  his  head  under  the  bedclothes,  under  the  idea 
that  he  already  saw  him  entering  with  all  his  hounds ; 
but  as  soon  as  he  had  a  little  recovered  himself  he 
began  to  curse  capricious  fortune,  no  longer  doubting 
but  this  jealous  fool's  return  had  occasioned  all  his 
tribulations  in  the  preceding  night.  It  was  not  possible 
for  him  to  sleep  again,  after  such  an  alarm ;  he  there- 
fore got  up  that  he  might  revolve  in  his  mind  all  the 
stratagems  that  are  usually  employed  either  to  deceive, 
or  to  remove  out  of  the  way,  a  jealous  scoundrel  of  a 
husband,  who  thought  fit  to  neglect  his  lawsuit  in 
order  to  plague  his  wife.  He  had  just  finished  dress- 
ing himself,  and  was  beginning  to  question  his  land- 
lord, when  the  same  servant  who  had  conducted  him 
to  the  garden  delivered  him  a  letter,  and  disappeared, 
without  waiting  for  an  answer.  This  letter  was  from 
his  relation,  and  was  to  this  effect: 

"I  am  extremely  sorry  that  I  have  innocently  been 
accessory  to  bringing  you  to  a  place,  to  which  you 
were  only  invited  to  be  laughed  at.  I  opposed  this 
journey  at  first,  though  I  was  then  persuaded  it  was 
wholly  suggested  by  her  tenderness;  but  she  has  now 
undeceived  me.  She  triumphs  in  the  trick  she  has 
played  you :  her  husband  has  not  stirred  from  hence, 
but  stays  at  home,  out  of  complaisance  to  her.  He 
treats  her  in  the  most  affectionate  manner ;  and  it  was 
upon  their  reconciliation  that  she  found  out  that  you 
had  advised  him  to  carry  her  into  the  country.  She 
has  conceived  such  hatred  and  aversion  against  you 
for  it,  that  I  find,  from  her  discourse,  she  has  not  yet 
wholly  satisfied  her  resentment.  Console  yourself  for 
the  hatred  of  a  person  whose  heart  never  merited  your 
tenderness.  Return:  a  longer  stay  in  this  place  will 


224       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

but  draw  upon  you  some  fresh  misfortune.  For  my 
part,  I  shall  soon  leave  her.  I  know  her,  and  I  thank 
God  for  it.  I  do  not  repent  having  pitied  her  at  first ; 
but  I  am  disgusted  with  an  employment  which  but  ill 
agrees  with  my  way  of  thinking." 

Upon  reading  this  letter,  astonishment,  shame, 
hatred,  and  rage,  seized  at  once  upon  his  heart;  then 
menaces,  invectives,  and  the  desire  of  vengeance,  broke 
forth  by  turns,  and  excited  his  passion  and  resentment  ; 
but,  after  he  deliberately  considered  the  matter,  he 
resolved  that  it  was  now  the  best  way  quietly  to  mount 
his  horse,  and  to  carry  back  with  him  to  London  a 
severe  cold,  instead  of  the  soft  wishes  and  tender  de- 
sires he  had  brought  from  thence.  He  quitted  this 
perfidious  place  with  much  greater  expedition  than  he 
had  arrived  at  it,  though  his  mind  was  far  from  being 
occupied  with  such  tender  and  agreeable  ideas.  How- 
ever, when  he  thought  himself  at  a  sufficient  distance 
to  be  out  of  danger  of  meeting  Lord  Chesterfield  and 
his  hounds,  he  chose  to  look  back,  that  he  might  at 
least  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  prison  where 
this  wicked  enchantress  was  confined;  but  what  was 
his  surprise,  when  he  saw  a  very  fine  house,  situated 
on  the  banks  of  a  river,  in  the  most  delightful  and 
pleasant  country  imaginable.18  Neither  rock  nor  preci- 
pice was  here  to  be  seen;  for,  in  reality,  they  were 

"Of  the  once  splendid  Inigo  Jones  mansion  (partly  constructed 
out  of  the  remains  of  the  ancient  castle  which  stood  in  Queen 
Elizabeth's  reign)  of  the  Earls  of  Chesterfield  at  Bretby,  near 
Repton,  in  South  Derbyshire,  only  a  few  scanty  ruins  remain. 
When  the  older  seat  at  Shelford,  Nottinghamshire,  was  de- 
stroyed by  the  Parliamentary  army,  the  family  removed  to  Bretby 
and  resided  there  until  about  the  year  1780,  when,  under  the 
belief  that  the  building  was  unsafe,  the  Earl  of  Chesterfield  of 
that  day  caused  it  to  be  pulled  down  and  a  new  structure  erected. 
Like  many  houses  of  the  period,  the  house  was  long  and  narrow, 
with  projecting  wings.  A  paved  courtyard  was  entered  through 
massy  iron  gates.  From  here  you  entered  a  portico  which  led 
to  the  great  hall,  staircase,  and  numerous  rich  apartments, 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  225 

only  in  the  letter  of  his  perfidious  mistress.  This  fur- 
nished fresh  cause  for  resentment  and  confusion  to  a 
man  who  thought  himself  so  well  acquainted  with  all 
the  wiles,  as  well  as  weaknesses,  of  the  fair  sex;  and 
who  now  found  himself  the  dupe  of  a  coquette,  who 
was  reconciled  to  her  husband  in  order  to  be  revenged 
on  her  lover. 

adorned  with  painted  ceilings  and  valuable  tapestry  and  pictures. 
A  chapel  of  later  date  stood  at  right  angles  with  the  east  wing. 
The  old  gardens,  designed  after  the  style  of  Versailles,  were 
"  full  of  old  buildings,  fountains,  and  leaden  images  in  the  shape 
of  wild  beasts,"  etc.  A  series  of  fish  ponds  extended  down  a  glen 
on  the  east  side  of  the  park,  and  to  the  north-east  were  long 
avenues  of  elm  and  chestnut  trees.  A  description  of  the 'house 
is  given  in  an  old  MS.  relative  to  Derbyshire : — "  The  seat  of  the 
Earl  of  Chesterfield  is  situated  in  the  midst  of  a  very  large  park, 
well  wooded  and  stored  with  several  kinds  of  deer  and  exotic 
beasts.  There  are  several  fine  avenues  of  trees  leading  to  the 
house,  which  is  of  stone,  though  not  of  the  modern  architecture, 
yet  very  regular,  convenient,  and  noble,  with  a  very  curious 
chapel  and  very  good  out-buildings.  But  the  gardens,  fountains, 
labyrinths,  groves,  greenhouses,  grottoes,  aviaries,  but  more  espe- 
cially the  carpet  walks,  and  situations  of  the  orange-trees  and 
water-works  before  the  marble  summer-house,  are  all  noble  and 
peculiarly  curious  and  pleasant,  suitable  to  the  genius  of  the 
owner,  who  has  also  been  the  chief  contriver  of  them,  the  present 
Earl  of  Chesterfield — Philip  Stanhope,  the  third — who,  now 
about  eighty  years  of  age,  retains  a  great  deal  of  that  vigour 
and  capacity  which  has  hitherto  rendered  him  the  glory  of  the 
nation"  (see  Lysons'  Derbyshire,  p.  240).  The  Earl  above  al- 
luded to  was  the  same  who  figures  in  the  Memoirs,  and  is 
wrongly  described  as  the  third  Earl.  Considerable  alterations 
were  made  to  the  mansion  by  him  in  1670,  and  in  1680  further 
alterations  and  improvements  were  added.  The  house  as  it  was 
completed  appears  in  Kip's  engraving.  A  description  of  Bretby 
in  1787  is  given  in  A  Tour  from  London  to  the  Western  High- 
lands of  Scotland,  as  follows:  "Nothing  scarce  is  left  of  that 
former  grandeur,  those  shades,  those  sylvan  scenes  that  every- 
where graced  the  most  charming  of  all  parks.  The  baneful 
hand  of  luxury  hath  with  rude  violence  laid  them  all  waste. 
About  ten  years  ago  the  venerable  and  lofty  pile  was  stand- 
ing, and  exhibited  delightful  magnificence  to  its  frequent 
visitors ;  its  painted  roofs  and  walls,  besides  a  large  collection 
of  pictures,  afforded  much  entertainment  to  the  fond  admirer  of 
antique  beauties:  and  the  whole  stood  as  a  lasting  monument 
of  fame  and  credit  to  its  lordly  owner." 


226       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

At  last  he  reached  London,  well  furnished  with 
arguments  to  maintain  that  a  man  must  be  extremely 
weak  to  trust  to  the  tenderness  of  a  woman  who  has 
once  deceived  him,  but  that  he  must  be  a  complete  fool 
to  run  after  her. 

This  adventure  not  being  much  to  his  credit,  he 
suppressed,  as  much  as  possible,  both  the  journey  and 
the  circumstances  attending  it;  but,  as  we  may  easily 
suppose,  Lady  Chesterfield  made  no  secret  of  it.  The 
King  came  to  the  knowledge  of  it;  and,  having  com- 
plimented Hamilton  upon  it,  desired  to  be  informed  of 
all  the  particulars  of  the  expedition.  The  Chevalier  de 
Gramont  happened  to  be  present  at  this  recital;  and, 
having  gently  inveighed  against  the  treacherous  man- 
ner in  which  he  had  been  used,  said:  "If  she  is  to  be 
blamed  for  carrying  the  jest  so  far,  you  are  no  less  to 
be  blamed  for  coming  back  so  suddenly,  like  an 
ignorant  novice.  I  dare  lay  an  hundred  guineas,  she 
has  more  than  once  repented  of  a  resentment  which 
you  pretty  well  deserved  for  the  trick  you  had  played 
her.  Women  love  revenge ;  but  their  resentments  sel- 
dom last  long;  and  if  you  had  remained  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood till  the  next  day,  I  will  be  hanged  if  she 
would  not  have  given  you  satisfaction  for  the  first 
night's  sufferings."  Hamilton  being  of  a  different 
opinion,  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  resolved  to  main- 
tain his  assertion  by  a  case  in  point ;  and,  addressing 
himself  to  the  King:  "Sire,"  said  he,  "your  Majesty,  I 
suppose,  must  have  known  Marion  de  rOrme,14  the 
most  charming  creature  in  all  France.  Though  she  was 
as  witty  as  an  angel,  she  was  as  capricious  as  a  devil. 

M  Marion  de  1'Orme,  born  at  Chalons,  in  Champagne,  was 
esteemed  the  most  beautiful  woman  of  her  times.  It  is  believed 
that  she  was  secretly  married  to  the  unfortunate  Monsieur  Cinq- 
mars.  After  his  death,  she  became  the  mistress  of  Cardinal  Riche- 
lieu, and,  at  last,  of  Monsieur  d'Emery,  Superintendent  of  the 
Finances. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  227 

This  beauty  having  made  me  an  appointment,  a  whim 
seized  her  to  put  me  off,  and  to  give  it  to  another; 
she  therefore  wrote  me  one  of  the  tenderest  billets  in 
the  world,  full  of  the  grief  and  sorrow  she  was  in, 
by  being  obliged  to  disappoint  me,  on  account  of  a 
most  terrible  headache,  that  obliged  her  to  keep  her 
bed,  and  deprived  her  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing  me 
till  the  next  day.  This  headache  coming  all  of  a  sud- 
den, appeared  to  me  very  suspicious;  and,  never 
doubting  but  it  was  her  intention  to  jilt  me :  'Very  well, 
mistress  coquette,'  said  I  to  myself,  'if  you  do  not 
enjoy  the  pleasure  of  seeing  me  this  day,  you  shall  not 
enjoy  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  another.' 

"Hereupon,  I  detached  all  my  servants,  some  of 
whom  patrolled  about  her  house,  whilst  others  watched 
her  door.  One  of  the  latter  brought  me  intelligence 
that  no  person  had  gone  into  her  house  all  the  after- 
noon; but  that  a  foot-boy  had  gone  out  as  it  grew 
dark;  that  he  followed  him  as  far  as  the  Rue  Saint 
Antoine,  where  this  boy  met  another,  to  whom  he  only 
spoke  two  or  three  words.  This  was  sufficient  to  con- 
firm my  suspicions,  and  make  me  resolve  either  to 
make  one  of  the  party,  or  to  disconcert  it. 

"As  the  bagnio  where  I  lodged  was  at  a  great  dis- 
tance from  the  Marais,  as  soon  as  the  night  set  in  I 
mounted  my  horse,  without  any  attendant.  When  I 
came  to  the  Place-Royale,  the  servant,  who  was 
sentry  there,  assured  me  that  no  person  was  yet  gone 
into  Mademoiselle  de  l'Orme's  house.  I  rode  forward 
towards  the  Rue  Saint  Antoine;  and,  just  as  I  was 
going  out  of  the  Place-Royale,  I  saw  a  man  on  foot 
coming  into  it,  who  avoided  me  as  much  as  he  possibly 
could;  but  his  endeavour  was  all  to  no  purpose;  I 
knew  him  to  be  the  Duke  de  Brissac,18  and  I  no  longer 

18  Louis  de  Coss'e  Brissac,  who  at  this  time  had  not  yet  suc- 
ceeded to  the  Dukedom  (Vizetelly's  edition,  vol.  ii.  p.  60). 
8— Memoirs  VoL  4 


228       THE  COURT  OF  CHARLES   II 

doubted  but  he  was  my  rival  that  night.  I  then  ap- 
proached towards  him,  seeming  as  if  I  feared  I  mis- 
took my  man;  and,  alighting  with  a  very  busy  air: 
'Brissac,  my  friend,'  said  I,  'you  must  do  me  a  service 
of  the  very  greatest  importance.  I  have  an  appoint- 
ment, for  the  first  time,  with  a  girl  who  lives  very 
near  this  place;  and,  as  this  visit  is  only  to  concert 
measures,  I  shall  make  but  a  very  short  stay.  Be  so 
kind,  therefore,  as  to  lend  me  your  cloak,  and  walk 
my  horse  about  a  little,  until  I  return ;  but,  above  all, 
do  not  go  far  from  this  place.  You  see  that  I  use 
you  freely  like  a  friend ;  but  you  know  it  is  upon  con- 
dition that  you  may  take  the  same  liberty  with  me.' 
I  took  his  cloak,  without  waiting  for  his  answer,  and 
he  took  my  horse  by  the  bridle,  and  followed  me  with 
his  eye;  but  he  gained  no  intelligence  by  this;  for, 
after  having  pretended  to  go  into  a  house  opposite  to 
him,  I  slipped  under  the  piazzas  to  Mademoiselle  de 
rOrme's,  where  the  door  was  opened  as  soon  as  I 
knocked.  I  was  so  much  muffled  up  in  Brissac's  cloak 
that  I  was  taken  for  him.  The  door  was  immediately 
shut,  not  the  least  question  asked  me ;  and  having  none 
to  ask  myself  I  went  straight  to  the  lady's  chamber. 
I  found  her  upon  a  couch  in  the  most  agreeable  and 
genteelest  deshabille  imaginable :  she  never  in  her  life 
looked  so  handsome,  nor  was  so  greatly  surprised; 
and,  seeing  her  speechless  and  confounded :  'What  is 
the  matter,  my  fair  one?'  said  I,  'methinks  this  is  a 
headache  very  elegantly  set  off ;  but  your  headache,  to 
all  appearance,  is  now  gone?*  'Not  in  the  least/  said 
she,  'I  can  scarce  support  it,  and  you  will  oblige  me 
in  going  away  that  I  may  go  to  bed.'  'As  for  your 
going  to  bed,  to  that  I  have  not  the  least  objection/ 
said  I,  'but  as  for  my  going  away,  that  cannot  be,  my 
little  princess :  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  is  no  fool ;  a 
woman  does  not  dress  herself  with  so  much  care  for 


COUNT  DE   GRAMONT  229 

nothing.'  'You  will  find,  however,'  said  she,  'that  it 
is  for  nothing;  for  you  may  depend  upon  it  that  you 
shall  be  no  gainer  by  it.'  'What !'  said  I,  'after  having 
made  me  an  appointment !'  'Well/  replied  she  hastily, 
'though  I  had  made  you  fifty,  it  still  depends  upon  me, 
whether  I  chose  to  keep  them  or  not,  and  you  must 
submit  if  I  do  not.'  'This  might  do  very  well/  said  I, 
'if  it  was  not  to  give  it  to  another/  Mademoiselle  de 
rOrme,  as  haughty  as  a  woman  of  the  greatest  virtue, 
and  as  passionate  as  one  who  has  the  least,  was  irri- 
tated at  a  suspicion  which  gave  her  more  concern  than 
confusion ;  and  seeing  that  she  was  beginning  to  put 
herself  in  a  passion:  'Madam/  said  I,  'pray  do  not  talk 
in  so  high  a  strain ;  I  know  what  perplexes  you :  you 
are  afraid  lest  Brissac  should  meet  me  here;  but  you 
may  make  yourself  easy  on  that  account.  I  met  him 
not  far  from  this  place,  and  God  knows  that  I  have 
so  managed  the  affair  as  to  prevent  his  visiting  you 
soon/  Having  spoken  these  words  in  a  tone  some- 
what tragical,  she  appeared  concerned  at  first,  and, 
looking  upon  me  with  surprise:  'What  do  you  mean 
about  the  Duke  de  Brissac?'  said  she,  'I  mean/  re- 
plied I,  'that  he  is  at  the  end  of  the  street,  walking  my 
horse  about;  but,  if  you  will  not  believe  me,  send  one 
of  your  own  servants  thither,  or  look  at  his  cloak 
which  I  left  in  your  ante-chamber/  Upon  this  she 
burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter,  in  the  midst  of  her  as- 
tonishment, and,  throwing  her  arms  around  my  neck, 
'My  dear  Chevalier/  said  she,  *I  can  hold  out  no 
longer;  you  are  too  amiable  and  too  eccentric  not  to 
be  pardoned/  I  then  told  her  the  whole  story.  She 
was  ready  to  die  with  laughing;  and,  parting  very 
good  friends,  she  assured  me  my  rival  might  exercise 
horses  as  long  as  he  pleased,  but  that  he  should  not 
set  his  foot  within  her  dSWs  that  night. 
"I  found  the  Duke  exactly  in  the  place  where  I 


230       THE   COURT   OF  CHARLES   II 

had  left  him.  I  asked  him  a  thousand  pardons  for 
having  made  him  wait  so  long1,  and  thanked  him  a 
thousand  times  for  his  complaisance.  He  told  me  I 
jested,  that  such  compliments  were  unusual  among 
friends;  and  to  convince  me  that  he  had  cordially 
rendered  me  this  piece  of  service,  he  would,  by  all 
means,  hold  my  horse  while  I  was  mounting.  I  re- 
turned him  his  cloak,  bade  him  good-night,  and  went 
back  to  my  lodgings,  equally  satisfied  with  my  mistress 
and  my  rival.  This,"  continued  he,  "proves  that  a 
iittle  patience  and  address  are  sufficient  to  disarm  the 
anger  of  the  fair,  to  turn  even  their  tricks  to  a  man's 
advantage." 

It  was  in  vain  that  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  di- 
verted the  Court  with  his  stories,  instructed  by  his 
example,  and  never  appeared  there  but  to  inspire  uni- 
versal joy;  for  a  long  time  he  wras  the  only  foreigner 
in  fashion.  Fortune,  jealous  of  the  justice  which  is 
done  to  merit,  and  desirous  of  seeing  all  human  hap- 
piness depend  on  her  caprice,  raised  up  against  him 
two  competitors  for  the  pleasure  he  had  long  enjoyed 
of  entertaining  the  English  Court;  and  these  com- 
petitors were  so  much  the  more  dangerous,  as  the 
reputation  of  their  several  merits  had  preceded  their 
arrival,  in  order  to  dispose  the  suffrages  of  the  Court 
in  their  favour. 

They  came  to  display,  in  their  own  persons,  what- 
ever was  the  most  accomplished  either  among  the  men 
of  the  sword,  or  of  the  gown.  The  one  was  the 
Marquis  de  Flamarens,"  the  sad  object  of  the  sad 
elegies  of  the  Countess  de  la  Suse,17  the  other  was  the 

*  Francois  de  Grossoles,  ob.  1706.  It  is  said  to  have  been  at  his 
suggestion  that  Henrietta,  Duchess  of  Orleans,  came  over  to 
England  with  the  object  of  influencing  Charles  in  favour  of  the 
French  alliance  (see  Vizetelly,  vol.  ii.  p.  281). 

1T  This  ladv  was  the  daughter  of  Caspar  de  Coligny,  Marshal  of 
France,  and  was  celebrated  in  her  time  for  her  wit  and  her 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  231 

President  Tambonneau,18  the  most  humble  and  most 
obedient  servant  and  admirer  of  the  beauteous 
Luynes.19  As  they  arrived  together,  they  exerted  every 
endeavour  to  shine  in  concert.  Their  talents  were  as 
different  as  their  persons ;  Tambonneau,  who  was  tol- 
erably ugly,  founded  his  hopes  upon  a  great  store  of 
wit,  which,  however,  no  person  in  England  could  find 
out;  and  Flamarens,  by  his  air  and  mien,  courted  ad- 
miration, which  was  flatly  denied  him. 

They  had  agreed  mutually  to  assist  each  other,  in 
order  to  succeed  in  their  intentions;  and  therefore,  in 
their  first  visits,  the  one  appeared  in  state,  and  the 
other  was  the  spokesman.  But  they  found  the  ladies 
in  England  of  a  far  different  taste  from  those  who  had 
rendered  them  famous  in  France.  The  rhetoric  of  the 
one  had  no  effect  on  the  fair  sex,  and  the  fine  mien 
of  the  other  distinguished  him  only  in  a  minuet,  which 
he  first  introduced  into  England,  and  which  he  danced 
with  tolerable  success.  The  English  Court  had  been 
too  long  accustomed  to  the  solid  wit  of  Saint-Evre- 
mond,  and  the  natural  and  singular  charms  of  his 
hero,  to  be  seduced  by  appearances;  however,  as  the 
English  have,  in  general,  a  sort  of  predilection  in 
favour  of  anything  that  has  the  appearance  of  bravery, 
Flamarens  was  better  received  on  account  of  a  duel, 

elegies.  She  was  one  of  the  few  women  with  whom  Christina, 
Queen  of  Sweden,  condescended  to  become  intimate.  Though 
educated  a  Protestant,  she  embraced  the  Roman  Catholic  religion, 
less  from  a  motive  of  devotion,  than  to  have  a  pretence  for  part- 
ing from  her  husband,  who  was  a  Protestant,  and  for  whom 
she  had  an  invincible  abhorrence,  which  occasioned  the  Queen 
to  say,  "  The  Countess  of  Suse  became  a  Catholic,  that  she 
might  neither  meet  her  husband  in  this  world  nor  the  next." 
— See  Lacombe's  Life  of  Queen  Christina.  The  Countess  di'ed 
in  1673. 

58  President  of  the  Chambre  des  Comptes,  where  the  financial 
business  of  the  State  was  transacted  from  the  year  1302  until  1790, 
when  it  was  abolished. 

19  Jane  Mary,  eldest  daughter  of  Colbert,  the  French  Minister. 
She  married  the  Duke  de  Luynes  (Vizetelly,  ii.  p.  64). 


232       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES   II 

which,  obliging  him  to  leave  his  own  country,  was  a 
recommendation  to  him  in  England. 

Miss  Hamilton  had,  at  first,  the  honour  of  being 
distinguished  by  Tambonneau,  who  thought  she  pos- 
sessed a  sufficient  share  of  wit  to  discover  the  delicacy 
of  his;  and,  being  delighted  to  find  that  nothing  was 
lost  in  her  conversation,  either  as  to  the  turn,  the  ex- 
pression, or  beauty  of  the  thought,  he  frequently  did 
her  the  favour  to  converse  with  her ;  and,  perhaps,  he 
would  never  have  found  out  that  he  was  tiresome,  if, 
contenting  himself  with  the  display  of  his  eloquence, 
he  had  not  thought  proper  to  attack  her  heart.  This 
was  carrying  the  matter  a  little  too  far  for  Miss  Ham- 
ilton's complaisance,  who  was  of  opinion  that  she  had 
already  shown  him  too  much  for  the  tropes  of  his 
harangues;  he  was  therefore  desired  to  try  somewhere 
else  the  experiment  of  his  seducing  tongue,  and  not  to 
lose  the  merit  of  his  former  constancy  by  an  infidelity 
which  would  be  of  no  advantage  to  him. 

He  followed  this  advice  like  a  wise  and  tractable 
man ;  and  some  time  after,  returning  to  his  old  mistress 
in  France,  he  began  to  lay  in  a  store  of  politics  for 
those  important  negotiations  in  which  he  has  since 
been  employed. 

It  was  not  till  after  his  departure  that  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont  heard  of  the  amorous  declaration  he  had 
made.  This  was  a  confidence  of  no  great  importance  ; 
it,  however,  saved  Tambonneau  from  some  ridicule 
which  might  have  fallen  to  his  share  before  he  went 
away.  His  colleague,  Flamarens,  deprived  of  his  sup- 
port, soon  perceived  that  he  was  not  likely  to  meet 
in  England  with  the  success  he  had  expected,  both 
from  love  and  fortune ;  but  Lord  Falmouth,  ever  atten- 
tive to  the  glory  of  his  master,  in  the  relief  of  illus- 
trious men  in  distress,  provided  for  his  subsistence, 
and  Lady  Southesk  for  his  pleasures;  he  obtained  a 


COUNT  DE   GRAMONT  233 

pension  from  the  King,  and  from  her  everything  he 
desired;  and  most  happy  was  it  for  him  that  she  had 
no  other  present  to  bestow  but  that  of  her  heart. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Talbot,  whom  we  have 
before  mentioned,  and  who  was  afterwards  created 
Duke  of  Tyrconnel,  fell  in  love  with  Miss  Hamilton. 
There  was  not  a  more  genteel  man*  at  Court  He  was 
indeed  but  a  younger  brother,  though  of  a  very  ancient 
family,  which,  however,  was  not  very  considerable 
either  for  its  renown  or  its  riches ;  and  though  he  was 
naturally  of  a  careless  disposition,  yet,  being  intent 
upon  making  his  fortune,  and  much  in  favour  with 
the  Duke  of  York,  and  fortune  likewise  favouring  him 
at  play,  he  had  improved  both  so  well  that  he  was  in 
possession  of  about  forty  thousand  pounds*  a  year  in 
land.  He  offered  himself  to  Miss  Hamilton,  with  this 
fortune,  together  with  the  almost  certain  hopes  of 
being  made  a  peer  of  the  realm,  by  his  master's  credit ; 
and,  over  and  above  all,  as  many  sacrifices  as  she 
could  desire  of  Lady  Shrewsbury's  letters,  pictures, 
and  hair:  curiosities  which,  indeed,  are  reckoned  for 
nothing  in  housekeeping,  but  which  testify  strongly 
in  favour  of  the  sincerity  and  merit  of  a  lover. 

Such  a  rival  was  not  to  be  despised;  and  the 
Chevalier  de  Gramont  thought  him  the  more  danger- 
ous, as  he  perceived  that  Talbot  was  desperately  in 
love;  that  he  was  not  a  man  to  be  discouraged  by  a 
first  repulse;  that  he  had  too  much  sense  and  good 
breeding  to  draw  upon  himself  either  contempt  or  cold- 
ness by  too  great  eagerness;  and,  besides  this,  his 
brothers  began  to  frequent  the  house.  One  of  these 
brothers  was  Almoner  to  the  Queen,"  an  intriguing 

"Man  of  better  appearance  (Vizetelly's  translation). 

"Livres  (ibid.).    This  is  less  than  £2000. 

1  Peter  Talbot,  Almoner  to  the  Queen,  born  1620,  second  son 
of  Sir  William  Talbot,  and  elder  brother  of  Richard,  Duke  of 
Tyrconnel.  Consecrated  in  1669  at  Antwerp.  He  lived  upon 
friendly  terms  with  his  brothers'  patrons  the  Duke  and  Duchess 


234       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

Jesuit,  and  a  great  match-maker;  the  other  was  what 
was  called  a  lay-monk/3  who  had  nothing  of  his  order 
but  the  immorality  and  infamy  of  character  which  is 
ascribed  to  them,  and  withal,  frank  and  free,  and 
sometimes  entertaining,  but  ever  ready  to  speak  bold 
and  offensive  truths,  as  to  do  good  offices. 

When  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  reflected  upon  all 
these  things,  there  certainly  was  strong  ground  for 
uneasiness;  nor  was  the  indifference  which  Miss  Ham- 
ilton showed  for  the  addresses  of  his  rival  sufficient 
to  remove  his  fears ;  for  being  absolutely  dependent  on 
her  father's  will,  she  could  only  answer  for  her  own 
intentions;  but  Fortune,  who  seemed  to  have  taken 
him  under  her  protection  in  England,  now  delivered 
him  from  all  his  uneasiness. 

Talbot  had  for  many  years  stood  forward  as  the 
patron  of  the  distressed  Irish.  This  zeal  for  his  coun- 
trymen was  certainly  very  commendable  in  itself;  at 
the  same  time,  however,  it  was  not  altogether  free 
from  self-interest;  for,  out  of  all  the  estates  he  had, 
through  his  credit,  procured  the  restoration  of  to  their 
primitive  owners,  he  had  always  obtained  some  small 
compensation  for  himself;  but  as  each  owner  found 
his  advantage  in  it,  no  complaint  was  made.  Neverthe- 
less, as  it  is  very  difficult  to  use  fortune  and  favour  with 
moderation,  and  not  to  swell  with  the  gales  of  pros- 
perity, some  of  his  proceedings  had  an  air  of  haughti- 
ness and  independence,  which  offended  the  Duke  of 
Ormonde,**  then  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  as  in- 

pf  York,  residing  latterly  at  Pools  Hall,  Cheshire  (which  is  still 
in  good  preservation).  He  died  in  1680.  Clarendon  speaks  of 
him  in  his  Continuation  in  not  too  favourable  terms. 

"Thomas  Talbot,  a  Franciscan  friar,  "of  wit  enough,"  says 
Lord  Clarendon,  "but  of  notorious  debauchery"  (Continuation 
of  Clarendon,  p.  363.) 

"*  A  minute  account  of  this  transaction  is  given  by  Lord  Clar- 
endon, by  which  it  appears  that  Talbot  was  committed  to  the 
Tower  for  threatening  to  assassinate  the  Duke  of  Ormonde 
(Continuation  of  Clarendon,  p.  362). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  235 

jurious  to  his  Grace's  authority.  The  Duke  resented 
this  behaviour  with  great  spirit.  As  there  certainly 
was  a  great  difference  between  them,  both  as  to  their 
birth  and  rank,  and  to  their  credit,  it  had  been  prudent 
in  Talbot  to  have  had  recourse  to  apologies  and  sub- 
mission; but  such  conduct  appeared  to  him  base,  and 
unworthy  for  a  man  of  his  importance  to  submit  to. 
He  accordingly  acted  with  haughtiness  and  inso- 
lence; but  he  was  soon  convinced  of  his  error;  for, 
having  inconsiderately  launched  out  into  some  arro- 
gant expressions,  which  it  neither  became  him  to  utter 
nor  the  Duke  of  Ormonde  to  forgive,  he  was  sent 
prisoner  to  the  Tower,  from  whence  he  could  not  be 
released  until  he  had  made  all  necessary  submissions 
to  his  Grace.  He  therefore  employed  all  his  friends 
for  that  purpose,  and  was  obliged  to  yield  more  to  get 
out  of  this  scrape  than  would  have  been  necessary  to 
have  avoided  it.  By  this  imprudent  conduct  he  lost 
all  hopes  of  marrying  into  a  family  which,  after  such 
a  proceeding,  was  not  likely  to  listen  to  any  proposal 
from  him. 

It  was  with  great  difficulty  and  mortification  that  he 
was  obliged  to  suppress  a  passion  which  had  made  far 
greater  progress  in  his  heart  than  this  quarrel  had  done 
good  to  his  affairs.  This  being  the  case,  he  was  of 
opinion  that  his  presence  was  necessary  in  Ireland,  and 
that  he  was  better  out  of  the  way  of  Miss  Hamilton, 
to  remove  those  impressions  which  still  troubled  his 
repose.  His  departure,  therefore,  soon  followed  this 
resolution. 

Talbot  played  deep,  and  was  tolerably  forgetful; 
the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  won  three  or  four  hundred 
guineas  of  him  the  very  evening  on  which  he  was  sent 
to  the  Tower.  That  accident  had  made  him  forget  his 
usual  punctuality  in  paying  the  next  morning  whatever 
he  had  lost  over-night;  and  this  debt  had  so  far  es- 


236       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

caped  his  memory,  that  it  never  once  occurred  to  him 
after  he  was  enlarged.  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont, 
who  saw  him  at  his  departure,  without  taking-  the  least 
notice  of  the  money  he  owed  him,  wished  him  a  good 
journey;  and,  having  met  him  at  Court,  as  he  came 
to  take  his  leave  of  the  King :  "Talbot,"  said  he,  "if 
my  services  can  be  of  any  use  to  you  during  your  ab- 
sence, you  have  but  to  command  them.  You  know  old 
Russell  has  left  his  nephew  as  his  resident  with  Miss 
Hamilton.  If  you  please,  I  will  act  for  you  in  the 
same  capacity.  Adieu,  God  bless  you;  be  sure  not  to 
fall  sick  upon  the  road;  but  if  you  should,  pray  re- 
member me  in  your  will."  Talbot,  who,  upon  this 
compliment,  immediately  recollected  the  money  he 
owed  the  Chevalier,  burst  out  laughing,  and  embracing 
him :  "My  dear  Chevalier,"  said  he,  "I  am  so  much 
obliged  to  you  for  your  offer,  that  I  resign  you  my 
mistress,  and  will  send  you  your  money  instantly." 
The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  possessed  a  thousand  of 
these  genteel  ways  of  refreshing  the  memories  of  those 
persons  who  were  apt  to  be  forgetful  in  their  pay- 
ments. The  following  is  the  method  he  used  some 
years  after  with  Lord  Cornwallis.*  This  lord  had 

"Charles  Cornwallis,  second  Baron  Cornwallis  of  Eye  (born 
1632)  Gentleman  of  the  Privy  Chamber  to  Charles  II.,  was  son 
and  heir  of  Sir  Frederick  Cornwallis,  Bart,  (created  Baron,  aoth 
April  1661),  and  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Sir  John  Ashburnham. 
He  married  Margaret,  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Playsted,  and 
died  at  St.  Dunstans  in  the  East,  I3th  April  1673. 

Pepys  mentions  the  visit  of  Charles  II.  to  Lord  Cornwallis 
at  Culford  Hall,  near  Bury  St.  Edmunds  (an  Elizabethan  man- 
sion, rebuilt  in  the  eighteenth  century),  during  a  sojourn  at  New- 
market, when  (by  Creed's  account)  the  King's  host  endeavoured 
to  procure  for  his  Majesty  the  parson's  pretty  daughter,  who, 
however,  escaped,  "and  leaped  off  of  some  high  place  killed 
herself,  which,"  says  the  diarist,  "if  true  is  very  sad"  (Diary, 
l8th  July  1668). 

The  third  Lord  Cornwallis,  born  1655,  son  of  the  above,  mar- 
ried, in  the  year  1688,  the  widow  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  (vide 
King  Monmouth). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  237 

married  the  daughter  of  Sir  Stephen  Fox,2*  Treasurer 
of  the  King's  Household,  one  of  the  richest  and 
most  regular  men  in  England.  His  son-in-law,  on 
the  contrary,  was  a  young  spendthrift,  was  very 
extravagant,  loved  gaming,  lost  as  much  as  any  one 
would  trust  him,  but  was  not  quite  so  ready  at  paying. 
His  father-in-law  disapproved  of  his  conduct,  paid  his 
debts,  and  gave  him  a  lecture  at  the  same  time.  The 
Chevalier  de  Gramont  had  won  of  him  a  thousand  or 
twelve  hundred  guineas,  which  he  heard  no  tidings 
of,  although  he  was  upon  the  eve  of  his  departure,  and 
he  had  taken  leave  of  Cornwallis  in  a  more  particular 
manner  than  any  other  person.  This  obliged  the 
Chevalier  to  write  him  a  billet,  which  was  rather 
laconic.  It  was  this  : 

"My  LORD, 

"Pray  remember  the  Count  de  Gramont,  and 
do  not  forget  Sir  Stephen  Fox."* 

29  Sir  Stephen  Fox,  son  of  William  Fox,  of  Farley,  Wilts,  born 
1627,  statesman  and  Royalist.  He  was  employed  on  various 
secret  missions  to  England  prior  to  the  Restoration,  being  attached 
to  Charles  II.'s  Court  in  Holland,  and  was  the  first  to  bring  the 
welcome  news  of  Cromwell's  death.  He  was  knighted  in  1665. 
Though  he  supported  Clarendon  and  voted  against  the  Chan- 
cellor's impeachment,  he  retained  the  King's  friendship.  From 
Clerk  of  the  Green  Cloth  and  Paymaster  'of  the  Forces  he  was 
promoted  to  one  of  the  Lords  Commissioners  of  the  Treasury  in 
1679.  At  the  Revolution  he  opposed  William  of  Orange,  though 
he  was  won  over  in  1689.  He  led  the  Commons  at  Queen  Anne's 
Coronation.  He  died  at  his  house  in  Chiswick  in  October  1716, 
and  was  buried  at  Farley.  By  his  second  wife  Christian  Hope, 
whom  he  married  in  his  seventy-seventh  year,  he  left  two  sons 
(afterwards  Earl  of  Ilchester  and  Viscount  Holland)  and  two 
daughters.  By  his  first  wife,  Elizabeth  Whittle  (sister  to  Charles 
II.'s  court  surgeon),  he  left  two  sons  and  three  daughters. 

Evelyn  speaks  of  his  good  parts — kindness  and  benevolence. 
Much  of  the  wealth  he  had  amassed  was  spent  in  erecting 
churches  and  almshouses,  and  the  idea  of  founding  Chelsea  Hos- 
pital was  in  reality  his  and  not  Nell  Gwvn's,  as  is  popularly  be- 
lieved (vide  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  vol.  xx.  pp. 
134-135). 

-  Going    by    the    date    of    Lord    Cornwallis's    marriage,    the 


238        THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

To  return  to  Talbot :  he  went  away  more  concerned 
than  became  a  man  who  had  voluntarily  resigned  his 
mistress  to  another;  neither  his  stay  in  Ireland,  nor 
his  solicitude  about  his  domestic  affairs,  perfectly 
cured  him;  and  if  at  his  return  he  found  himself  dis- 
engaged from  Miss  Hamilton's  chains,  it  was  only  to 
exchange  them  for  others.  The  alteration  that  had 
taken  place  in  the  two  Courts  occasioned  this  change 
in  him,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  sequel. 

We  have  hitherto  only  mentioned  the  Queen's  Maids 
of  Honour,  upon  account  of  Miss  Stewart  and  Miss 
Warmester.  The  others  were  Miss  Bellenden,  Madem- 
oiselle de  la  Garde,  and  Mademoiselle  Bardou,  all 
maids  of  honour,  as  it  pleased  God. 

Miss  Bellenden*8  was  no  beauty,  but  was  a  good- 
natured  girl,  whose  chief  merit  consisted  in  being 
plump  and  fresh-coloured ;  and  who,  not  having  a  suf- 
ficient stock  of  wit  to  be  a  coquette  in  form,  used  all 
her  endeavours  to  please  every  person  by  her  com- 
plaisance. 

Mademoiselle  de  la  Garde,  and  Mademoiselle  Bardou, 
both  French,  had  been  preferred  to  their  places  by  the 
Queen  Dowager:  the  first  was  a  little  brunette,  who 
was  continually  meddling  in  the  affairs  of  her  com- 
panions; and  the  other  by  all  means  claimed  the  rank 
of  a  maid  of  honour,  though  she  only  lodged  with  the 
others,  and  both  her  title  and  services  were  constantly 
contested. 

It  was  hardly  possible  for  a  woman  to  be  more 
ugly,  with  so  fine  a  shape;  but  as  a  recompense,  her 
ugliness  was  set  off  with  every  art.  The  use  she  was 
put  to  was  to  dance  with  Flamarens,  and  sometimes, 
towards  the  conclusion  of  a  ball,  possessed  of  casta- 
above  incident  cannot  have  happened  before  27th  December 
1673. 

**  Possibly  the  daughter  of  William,  created  Lord  Bellenden 
1661,  the  son  of  Sir  James  Bellenden  of  Broughton. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  239 

nets  and  effrontery,  she  would  dance  some  figured 
saraband  or  other,  which  amused  the  Court.  Let  us 
now  see  in  what  manner  this  ended. 

As  Miss  Stewart  was  very  seldom  in  waiting  on 
the  Queen,  she  was  scarcely  considered  as  a  maid 
of  honour.  The  others  went  off  almost  at  the  same 
time,  by  different  adventures;  and  this  is  the  his- 
tory of  Miss  Warmester,  whom  we  have  before 
mentioned,  when  speaking  of  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont. 

Lord  Taaffe,  eldest  son  of  the  Earl  of  Carlingford," 
was  supposed  to  be  in  love  with  her;  and  Miss 
Warmester  not  only  imagined  it  was  so,  but  likewise 
persuaded  herself  that  he  would  not  fail  to  marry  her 
the  first  opportunity ;  and  in  the  meantime  she  thought 
it  her  duty  to  entertain  him  with  all  the  civility  imagin- 
able. 

Taaffe  had  made  the  Duke  of  Richmond30  his  con- 

*"  Nicholas,  third  Viscount  Taaffe,  afterwards  second  Earl  of 
Carlingford,  was  the  son  of  Sir  Theobald  Taaffe,  the  second 
Viscount  of  that  name,  first  Earl  of  Carlingford,  and  Mary, 
daughter  of  Sir  Nicholas  White  of  Leixlip,  Co.  Kildare.  He  was 
Privy  Councillor,  and  served  in  the  Spanish  Army.  Both  he 
and  his  brother  John  were  killed  in  the  Jacobite  cause,  the  for- 
mer at  the  battle  of  the  Boyne  (1691)  and  the  latter  at  the  siege 
of  Derry  (1689).  Nicholas  was  succeeded  by  his  brother  Francis, 
fourth  Viscount  Taaffe  and  third  Earl  of  Carlingford,  b.  1639, 
ob.  1704,  who,  dying  without  issue,  was  succeeded  by  his  nephew 
(John's  son)  Theobald,  the  fourth  and  last  Earl,  who  died  in 
1738,  when  the  title  became  extinct. 

"  Old  Lord  Carlingford "  of  the  Memoirs,  the  second  Vis- 
count Taaffe,  was  in  all  probability  the  father  of  the  Duke 
of  Monmouth's  half-sister,  Mary  Walter  (vide  King  Monmouth, 
chap,  vi.,  and  the  Appendix  of  that  work,  pp.  403-406).  He  was 
created  Earl,  i7th  June  1661,  and  died  3ist  December  1677. 
Charles  II.  had  a  great  regard  for  the  Taaffe  family. 

30  Charles  Stewart,  fourth  Duke  of  Richmond,  only  son  of 
George  Stewart  (the  fourth  son  of  Esme,  third  Duke  of  Len- 
nox) and  Catherine  Howard,  eldest  daughter  of  the  second 
Earl  of  Suffolk,  born  March  1639-40.  He  succeeded  to  the  title 
in  August  1660.  He  was  sent  as  ambassador  to  Denmark,  as 
Burnet  says,  upon  a  sleeveless  errand,  and  died  at  Elsinore  in 


240       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

fidant:  these  two  were  particularly  attached  to  each 
other ;  but  still  more  so  to  wine.  The  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond, notwithstanding  his  birth,  made  but  an  indif- 
ferent figure  at  Court;  and  the  King  respected  him 
still  less  than  his  courtiers  did ;  and  perhaps  it  was  in 
order  to  court  his  Majesty's  favour  that  he  thought 
proper  to  fall  in  love  witfi  Miss  Stewart.  The  Duke 
and  Lord  Taaffe  made  each  other  the  confidants  of 
their  respective  engagements;  and  these  were  the 
measures  they  took  to  put  their  designs  in  execution. 
Little  Mademoiselle  de  la  Garde81  was  charged  to  ac- 
quaint Miss  Stewart  that  the  Duke  of  Richmond  was 
dying  of  love  for  her,  and  that  when  he  ogled  her  in 
public  it  was  a  certain  sign  that  he  was  ready  to  marry 
her,  as  soon  as  ever  she  would  consent. 

Taaffe  had  no  commission  to  give  the  little  ambas- 
sadress for  Miss  Warmester ;  for  there  everything  was 
already  arranged;  but  she  was  charged  to  settle  and 
provide  some  conveniences  which  were  still  wanting 
for  the  freedom  of  their  commerce,  such  as  to  have 
free  egress  and  regress  to  her  at  all  hours  of  the  day 
or  night.  This  appeared  difficult  to  be  obtained,  but  it 
was,  however,  at  length  accomplished. 

The  governess  of  the  maids  of  honour,  who  for  the 
world  would  not  have  connived  at  anything  that  was 
not  fair  and  honourable,  consented  that  they  should 

1672,  and  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey,   2Oth   September 

1673.  The   titles   reverted    to  the   King   as   nearest   collateral 
heir,  who  bestowed  them  on  his  natural  son  by  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth,  Charles  Lennox,  first  Duke  of  Richmond,  in  August 

1675. 

81  Daughter  of  Charles  Peliot,  Lord  de  la  Garde,  whose  eldest 
daughter  married  Sir  Thomas  Bond,  Comptroller  of  the  House- 
hold to  the  Queen  Mother,  and  who  had  lent  large  sums  of 
money  to  Charles  II.  before  the  Restoration.  (Bond's  second 
son  married  the  niece  of  Jermyn,  one  of  the  heroes  of  these 
Memoirs'). — See  Collins's  Baronetage.  Miss  de  la  Garde  became 
the  wife  of  Sir  Gabriel  Silvius,  who  married  a  second  wife 
in  1677. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  241 

sup  as  often  as  they  pleased  in  Miss  Warmester's 
apartments,  provided  their  intentions  were  honourable, 
and  she  one  of  the  company.  The  good  old  lady  was 
particularly  fond  of  green  oysters,  and  had  no  aversion 
to  Spanish  wine;  she  was  certain  of  finding  at  every 
one  of  these  suppers  two  barrels  of  oysters :  one  to  be 
eaten  with  the  party,  and  the  other  for  her  to  carry 
away.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  she  had  taken  her  dose 
of  wine,  she  took  her  leave  of  the  company  . 

It  was  much  about  the  time  that  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont  had  cast  his  eyes  upon  Miss  Warmester 
that  this  kind  of  life  was  led  in  her  chamber.  God 
knows  how  many  ham  pies,  bottles  of  wine,  and 
other  products  of  his  lordship's  liberality  were  there 
consumed ! 

In  the  midst  of  these  nocturnal  festivals,  and  of  this 
innocent  commerce,  a  relation  of  Killegrew's88  came  up 
to  London  about  a  lawsuit.  He  gained  his  cause,  but 
nearly  lost  his  senses. 

He  was  a  country  gentleman,  who  had  been  a  wid- 
ower about  six  months,  and  was  possessed  of  fifteen  or 
sixteen  thousand  pounds8*  a-year.  The  good  man,  who 
had  no  business  at  Court,  went  thither  merely  to  see 
his  cousin  Killegrew,  who  could  have  dispensed  with 
his  visits.  He  there  saw  Miss  Warmester ;  and  at  first 
sight  fell  in  love  with  her.  His  passion  increased  to 
such  a  degree  that,  having  no  rest  either  by  day  or 
night,  he  was  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  extraor- 
dinary remedies;  he  therefore  early  one  morning 
called  upon  his  cousin  Killegrew,  told  him  his  case, 
and  desired  him  to  demand  Miss  Warmester  in  mar- 
riage for  him. 

**He  has  been  confused  with  Sir  Thomas  Vernon,  who  mar- 
ried Miss  Mary  Kirke  under  similar  circumstances  after  he 
became  a  widower  in  June  1676  (see  note,  p.  114). 

88  Livres  (Vizetelly) — a  livre  was  about  equivalent  to  a  franc, 
which  reduces  the  above  income  considerably. 


242       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

Killegrew  was  struck  with  wonder  and  astonish- 
ment when  he  heard  his  design:  nor  could  he  cease 
wondering  at  what  sort  of  creature,  of  all  the  women 
in  London,  his  cousin  had  resolved  upon  marrying. 
It  was  some  time  before  Killegrew  could  believe  that 
he  was  in  earnest ;  but  when  he  was  convinced  that  he 
was,  he  began  to  enumerate  the  dangers  and  incon- 
veniences attending  so  rash  an  enterprise.  He  told 
him  that  a  girl  educated  at  Court  was  a  terrible  piece 
of  furniture  for  the  country ;  that  to  carry  her  thither 
against  her  inclination  would  as  effectually  rob  him 
of  his  happiness  and  repose  as  if  he  was  transported 
to  hell;  that  if  he  consented  to  let  her  stay,  he  needed 
only  to  compute  what  it  would  cost  him  in  equipage, 
table,  clothes,  and  gaming-money,  to  maintain  her  in 
London  according  to  her  caprices ;  and  then  to  cast  up 
how  long  his  fifteen  thousand84  a-year  would  last. 

His  cousin  had  already  formed  this  computation; 
but,  finding  his  reason  less  potent  than  his  love,  he  re- 
remained  fixed  in  his  resolution ;  and  Killegrew,  yield- 
ing at  length  to  his  importunities,  went  and  offered  his 
cousin,  bound  hand  and  foot,  to  the  victorious  fair. 
As  he  dreaded  nothing  more  than  a  compliance  on  her 
part,  so  nothing  could  astonish  him  more  than  the  con- 
tempt with  which  she  received  his  proposal.  The  scorn 
with  which  she  refused  him,  made  him  believe  that  she 
was  sure  of  Lord  Taaffe,  and  wonder  how  a  girl  like 
her  could  find  out  two  men  who  would  venture  to 
marry  her.  He  hastened  to  relate  this  refusal,  with  all 
the  most  aggravating  circumstances,  as  the  best  news 
he  could  carry  to  his  cousin ;  but  his  cousin  would  not 
believe  him.  He  supposed  that  Killegrew  disguised  the 
truth,  for  the  same  reasons  he  had  already  alleged ;  and 
not  daring  to  mention  the  matter  any  more  to  him,  he 
resolved  to  wait  upon  her  himself.  He  summoned  all 

**  Livres. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  243 

his  courage  for  the  enterprise,  and  got  his  compliment 
by  heart ;  but  as  soon  as  he  had  opened  his  mouth  for 
the  purpose,  she  told  him  he  might  have  saved  himself 
the  trouble  of  calling  on  her  about  such  a  ridiculous 
affair ;  that  she  had  already  given  her  answer  to  Kille- 
grew ;  and  that  she  neither  had,  nor  ever  should  have, 
any  other  to  give,  which  words  she  accompanied  with 
all  the  severity  with  which  importunate  demands  are 
usually  refused. 

He  was  more  affected  than  confounded  at  this  re- 
pulse :  everything  became  odious  to  him  in  London, 
and  he  himself  more  so  than  all  the  rest.  He  there- 
fore left  town,  without  taking  leave  of  his  cousin, 
went  back  to  his  country  seat,  and  thinking  it  would 
be  impossible  for  him  to  live  without  the  inhuman  fair, 
he  resolved  to  neglect  no  opportunity  in  his  power  to 
hasten  his  death. 

But  whilst,  in  order  to  indulge  his  sorrow,  he  had 
forsaken  all  intercourse  with  dogs  and  horses — that  is 
to  say,  renounced  all  the  delights  and  endearments  of 
a  country  squire — the  scornful  nymph,  who  was  cer- 
tainly mistaken  in  her  reckoning,  took  the  liberty  of 
being  brought  to-bed  in  the  face  of  the  whole  Court. 

An  adventure  so  public  made  no  small  noise,  as  we 
may  very  well  imagine.  All  the  prudes  at  Court  at  once 
broke  loose  upon  it ;  and  those  principally,  whose  age 
or  persons  secured  them  from  any  such  scandal,  were 
the  most  inveterate,  and  cried  most  loudly  for  justice. 
But  the  governess  of  the  maids  of  honour,  who  might 
have  been  called  to  an  account  for  it,  affirmed  that  it 
was  nothing  at  all,  and  that  she  was  possessed  of  cir- 
cumstances which  would  at  once  silence  all  censorious 
tongues.  She  had  an  audience  of  the  Queen,  in  order 
to  unfold  the  mystery;  and  related  to  her  Majesty 
how  everything  had  passed  with  her  consent,  that  is  to 
say,  upon  honourable  terms. 


244       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

The  Queen  sent  to  inquire  of  Lord  Taaffe  whether 
he  acknowledged  Miss  Warmester  for  his  wife.  To 
which  he  most  respectfully  returned  for  answer,  that 
he  neither  acknowledged  Miss  Warmester  nor  her 
child,  and  that  he  wondered  why  she  should  rather 
father  it  upon  him  than  any  other.  The  unfortunate 
Warmester,  more  enraged  at  this  answer  than  at  the 
loss  of  such  a  lover,  quitted  the  Court  as  soon  as  ever 
she  was  able,  with  a  resolution  of  quitting  the  world 
the  first  opportunity. 

Killegrew,  being  upon  the  point  of  setting  out  upon 
a  journey  when  this  adventure  happened,  thought  he 
might  as  well  call  upon  his  afflicted  cousin  in  his  way, 
to  acquaint  him  with  the  circumstances;  and  as  soon 
as  he  saw  him,  without  paying  any  attention  to  the 
delicacy  of  his  love,  or  to  his  feelings,  he  bluntly  told 
him  the  whole  story;  nor  did  he  omit  any  colouring 
that  could  heighten  his  indignation,  in  order  to  make 
him  burst  with  shame  and  resentment. 

We  read  that  the  gentle  Tiridates  quietly  expired 
upon  the  recital  of  the  death  of  Mariamne;  but 
Killegrew's  fond  cousin,  falling  devoutly  upon  his 
knees,  and  lifting  up  his  eyes  to  Heaven,  poured  forth 
this  exclamation: 

"Praised  be  the  Lord  for  a  small  misfortune,  which 
perhaps  may  prove  the  comfort  of  my  life!  Who 
knows  but  the  beauteous  Warmester  will  now  accept 
of  me  for  a  husband ;  and  that  I  may  have  the  happi- 
ness of  passing  the  remainder  of  my  days  with  a 
woman  I  adore,  and  by  whom  I  may  expect  to  have 
heirs  ?"  "Certainly,"  said  Killegrew,  more  confounded 
than  his  cousin  ought  to  have  been  on  such  an  occasion, 
"you  may  depend  upon  having  both.  I  make  no  man- 
ner of  doubt  but  she  will  marry  you  as  soon  as  ever 
she  is  recovered  from  her  lying-in ;  and  it  would  be  a 
great  ill-nature  in  her,  who  already  knows  the  way,  to 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  245 

let  you  want  children.  However,  in  the  meantime  I 
advise  you  to  take  that  she  has  already,  till  you  get 
more." 

Notwithstanding  this  raillery,  all  that  was  said  did 
take  place.  This  faithful  lover  courted  her,  as  if  she 
had  been  the  chaste  Lucretia,  or  the  beauteous  Helen. 
His  passion  even  increased  after  marriage,  and  the 
generous  fair,  first  out  of  gratitude,  and  afterwards 
through  inclination,  never  brought  him  a  child  of 
which  he  was  not  the  father;  and  though  there  have 
been  many  a  happy  couple  in  England,  this  certainly 
was  the  happiest. 

Some  time  after,  Miss  Bellenden,  not  being  terrified 
by  this  example,  had  the  prudence  to  quit  the  Court 
before  she  was  obliged  so  to  do.  The  disagreeable 
Bardou  followed  her  soon  after ;  but  for  different  rea- 
sons. Every  person  was  at  last  completely  tired  of 
her  saraband,  as  well  as  of  her  face;  and  the  King, 
that  he  might  see  neither  of  them  any  more,  gave  each 
a  small  pension  for  her  subsistence.  There  now  only 
remained  little  Mademoiselle  de  la  Garde  to  be  pro- 
vided for.  Neither  her  virtues  nor  her  vices  were 
sufficiently  conspicuous  to  occasion  her  being  either 
dismissed  from  Court,  or  pressed  to  remain  there. 
God  knows  what  would  have  become  of  her,  if  a  Mr. 
Silvius,85  a  man  who  had  nothing  of  a  Roman  in  him 

"'Afterwards  Sir  Gabriel  Silvius.  In  Chamberlayne's  Anglic? 
Notitia,  1669,  Gabriel  de  Sylviis  is  put  down  as  one  of  the  car- 
vers to  the  Queen,  and  Mrs.  de  Sylviis,  one  of  the  six  chambriers 
or  dressers  to  the  Queen.  He  was  afterwards  knighted,  and,  30th 
February  1680,  was  s'ent  ambassador  to  the  Dukes  of  Brunswick 
and  Lunenburgh.  Lord  Orford  says  he  was  a  native  of  Orange, 
and  was  attached  to  the  Princess  Royal,  afterwards  to  the  Duke 
of  York.  He  also  says  he  was  sent  ambassador  to  Denmark. 
In  1677  Sir  Gabriel  married,  secondly,  Anne  Howard,  daughter 
of  William,  fourth  son  of  the  first  Earl  of  Berkshire,  and  sister 
to  Craven,  afterwards  Earl.  The  same  year  she  was  made  lady 
of  the  bedchamber  to  the  Princess  Mary  (see  "  Diary  of  Sir 
Thomas  Lake,"  Camden's  Miscellany,  vol.  i.  p.  13). 


246        THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

except  the  name,  had  not  taken  the  poor  girl  to  be 
his  wife. 

We  have  now  shown  how  all  these  damsels  deserved  to 
be  expelled,  either  for  their  irregularities,  or  for  their 
ugliness ;  and  yet,  those  who  replaced  them  found  means 
to  make  them  regretted,  Miss  Wells*  only  excepted. 

She  was  a  tall  girl,  exquisitely  shaped ;  she  dressed 
very  well,  walked  like  a  goddess;  and  yet,  her  face, 
though  made  like  those  that  generally  please  the  most, 
was  unfortunately  one  of  those  that  pleased  the  least : 
nature  had  spread  over  it  a  certain  careless  indolence" 
that  made  her  look  sheepish.18  This  gave  but  a  bad 
opinion  of  her  wit;  and  her  wit  had  the  ill-luck  to 
make  good  that  opinion.  However,  as  she  was  fresh 
coloured,  and  appeared  inexperienced,  the  King,  whom 
the  fair  Stewart  did  not  render  over  nice  as  to  the 
perfections  of  the  mind,  resolved  to  try  whether  the 
senses  would  not  fare  better  with  Miss  Wells's  person 
than  fine  sentiments  with  her  understanding.  Nor  was 
this  experiment  attended  with  much  difficulty.  She 
was  of  a  loyal  family;  and  her  father  having  faithfully 
served  Charles  the  First,  she  thought  it  her  duty  not  to 
revolt  against  Charles  the  Second.  But  this  connec- 
tion was  not  attended  with  very  advantageous  cir- 
cumstances for  herself.  Some  pretended  that  she  did 
not  hold  out  long  enough,  and  that  she  surrendered  at 
discretion  before  she  was  vigorously  attacked ;  and 
others  said  that  his  Majesty  complained  of  certain 
other  facilities  still  less  pleasing.  The  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham made  a  couplet  upon  this  occasion,  wherein  the 
King,  speaking  to  Progers,"  the  confidant  of  his  in- 
trigues, puns  upon  the  name  of  the  fair  one. 

16  Winifred  Wells  was  Maid  of  Honour  to  the  Queen  and  be- 
longed to  a  good  royalist  family. 

"  Vague  look  (Vizetelly).  w Like  a  musing  sheep  (ibid.). 

**  Edward  Progers,  or  Proger,  was  a  younger  son  of  Colonel 
Philip  Progers  (of  the  family  of  Garreddin,  in  Monmouthshire). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  247 

Miss  Wells,  notwithstanding  a  species  of  anagram 
upon  her  name,  and  certain  remarks  upon  her  person, 
shone  the  brightest  among  her  new  companions.*0 

equerry  to  James  I.  He  was  early  introduced  to  Court,  and,  after 
having  been  page  to  Charles  I.,  was  made  Groom  of  the  Bedcham- 
ber to  the  Prince  of  Wales.  In  the  lampoons  of  the  times,  particu- 
larly in  those  of  Andrew  Marvell,  he  is  described  as  one  devoted 
to  assist  his  master's  pleasure ;  for  which  reason,  perhaps,  he  was 
banished  from  the  King's  presence  in  1650,  by  an  act  of  the 
estates  of  Scotland,  "  as  an  evil  instrument  and  bad  counsellor 
of  the  King."  In  1660,  he  was  named,  says  Walpole,  one  of 
the  knights  of  the  Royal  Oak,  an  order  the  King  then  intended 
to  institute.  Progers  obtained  permission  from  the  King  to 
build  a  house  in  Bushey  Park,  near  Hampton  Court,  on  con- 
dition that,  after  his  death,  it  should  revert  to  the  Crown.  This 
was  the  "  Upper  Lodge "  which  stood  on  the  site  of  the  house 
occupied  by  King  William  IV.,  and  here  some  of  the  Merry 
Monarch's  convivial  meetings  took  place.  He  represented  the 
county  of  Brecon  in  Parliament  for  seventeen  years,  but  retired 
in  1679.  On  the  death  of  Charles,  he  retired  from  public  life. 
In  James  II.'s  reign  he  was  in  low  circumstances,  and  applied 
to  the  King  for  relief,  with  what  effect  is  not  known.  Progers 
had  a  family  by  his  wife  Elizabeth  Wells  (possibly  Winifred's 
sister)  ;  and  the  scandal-bearers  of  the  time  remarked  that  his 
eldest  daughter  Philippa,  afterwards  Mrs.  Croxel,  bore  a  strong 
resemblance  to  Charles  II.  (Monumenta  Anglicana,  1717,  p.  273). 
Mr.  Progers  died,  says  Le  Neve,  "3ist  December,  or  ist  January 
1713-14,  aged  ninety-six,  of  the  anguish  of  cutting  teeth,  he 
having  cut  four  new  teeth,  and  had  several  ready  to  cut,  which 
so  inflamed  his  gums,  that  he  died  thereof."  When  the  old 
church  at  Hampton  was  pulled  down,  Proger's  tomb  now  in  the 
new  church,  was  discovered  beneath  the  reading  desk.  It  was 
Progers  who  managed  to  abduct  the  young  Duke  of  Monmouth 
from  his  mother,  Lucy  Walter  (vide  King  Monmouth,  p.  20). 

40  At  a  Court  ball  some  time  in  January  1662-3,  and  recorded 
by  Pepys  8th  February  of  that  year,  a  child  was  dropped  by  one 
of  the  maids  of  honour,  which  was  smuggled  off  in  a  handker- 
chief. The  next  day  Miss  Wells  was  missing,  having  fallen  sick, 
says  Pepys,  so  this  misadventure  was  attributed  to  her.  The 
King,  who  was  supposed  to  be  the  father,  according  to  the  same 
authority,  amused  himself  by  dissecting  this  still-born  boy! 
(Diary,  I7th  February  1662-3).  On  I2th  June  1666  the  diarist 
saw  her  in  her  riding  garb,  with  coat,  doublet,  and  deep  skirt, 
hat  and  periwig  exactly  like  a  man's,  the  only  distinction  being 
a  long  petticoat  dragging  beneath  the  coat.  It  is  needless  to  add 
that  Mr.  Pepys,  so  susceptible  to  beauty,  did  not  approve  of 
this  costume. 

In  the  last  entry  but  one  in  Pepys'  Diary,  3oth  May  1669,  he 


248        THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

These  were  Miss  Levingston,41  Miss  Fielding,43  and 
Miss  Boynton,4*  who  little  deserve  to  be  mentioned  in 
these  Memoirs;  therefore  we  shall  leave  them  in  ob- 
scurity until  it  please  fortune  to  draw  them  out  of  it. 

This  was  the  new  establishment  of  maids  of  honour 
to  the  Queen.  The  Duchess  of  York,  nearly  about 
the  same  time,  likewise  recruited  hers;  but  showed, 
by  a  happier  and  more  brilliant  choice,  that  England 
possessed  an  inexhaustible  stock  of  beauties.  But 
before  we  begin  to  speak  of  them,  let  us  see  who  were 
the  first  maids  of  honour  to  her  Royal  Highness,  and 
on  what  account  they  were  removed. 

mentions  meeting  Miss  Wells  in  Mr.  Chevin's  (Chiffinch)  apart- 
ments at  Whitehall.  He  speaks  of  her  great  beauty,  and  pretty 
conversation,  which  scarcely  tallies  with  Gramont's  description. 
"I  had  my  full  gaze  upon  her,"  says  Pepys,  "to  my  great 
content." 

41  Nothing  appears  to  be  known  of  this  lady.    It  has  been  sur- 
mised, however,  that  it  was  to  her  that  the  Earl  of  Chesterfield 
(Philip,  second  Earl)  wrote  one  of  his  amatory  epistles.    Under 
the  initials  "  B.  L."  her  portrait  is  thus  described :  "  Your  shape 
tho'  neat  deserves  rather  to  be  commended  than  admired.     Your 
motions  are  'easy  and  allways  attended  with  an  air,  that  is  pecu- 
liar to  persons  of  quality.     Your  complexion  is  none  of  those 
faint  whits  [whites]  that  represents  a  Venus  in  the  green  sick- 
ness, but  such  as  Appollo  favours  and  visits  most.     Your  hair 
is  like    Mary   Magdalain's,   and   a   pretty   sullenness   commonly 
shades  your  face;  but  smiles  from  a  new  fashioned  mouth  doe 
disperse  those  clouds  and  shew  such  beauties  of  red  and  white, 
that  all  other  mouths  can  never  prayes  enough.    Your  eyes  (tho' 
not  to  big)  are  full  of  fire  and  seem  to  penetrat  our  thoughts, 
and  sometimes  allso  to  express  your  own;  which  leads  me  to  a 
mind  that  I  dare  hardly  mention,  as  never  having  had  the  honour 
of  your  company,"  etc.   (Letters  of  Philip,  Earl  of  Chesterfield, 
PP-  T53-I56). 

42  Beau  Fielding's  sister  Anne.     John  Verney,  writing  to   his 
son   Ralph,  3pth   November  1676,   says :   "  Sir  Samuel  Morland 
is  lately  married  to  handsome  Fielding's  sister,  and  saith  he  will 
not  have  a  penny  for  portion.    She  is  handsomer  for  a  woman  than 
he  is  for  a  man"  (Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.  p.  467).    Accord- 
ing to  the  poem,  "  Cullen  with  his  Flock  of  Misses,"   she  was 
among  the  applicants  for  the  position  held  by  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth  when  the  French  mistress  was  out  of  favour  in  1679. 
She  died  February  1679-80.  **  See  note,  p.  285. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  249 

Beside  Miss  Blague  and  Miss  Price,  who  we  have 
before  mentioned,  the  establishment  was  composed  of 
Miss  Bagot  and  Miss  Hobart,  the  president  of  the 
community. 

Miss  Blague,  who  never  knew  the  true  reason  of 
her  quarrel  with  the  Marquis  de  Brisacier,  took  it  up 
upon  that  fatal  letter  she  had  received  from  him,  where- 
in, without  acquainting  her  that  Miss  Price  was  to 
wear  the  same  sort  of  gloves  and  yellow  riband44  as 
herself,  he  had  only  complimented  her  upon  her  hair, 
her  fair  complexion,*5  and  her  eyes  marcassins.  This 
word  she  imagined  must  signify  something  particu- 
larly wonderful,  since  her  eyes  were  compared  to  it; 
and  being  desirous,  some  time  afterwards,  to  know  all 
the  energy  of  the  expression,  she  asked  the  meaning  of 
the  French  word  marcassin.  As  there  are  no  wild 
boars  in  England,  those  to  whom  she  addressed  her- 
self told  her  that  it  signified  a  young  pig.  This  scan- 
dalous simile  confirmed  her  in  the  belief  she  entertained 
of  his  perfidy.  Brisacier,  more  amazed  at  her  change 
than  she  was  offended  at  his  supposed  calumny,  looked 
upon  her  as  a  woman  still  more  capricious  than  insig- 
nificant, and  never  troubled  himself  more  about  her; 
but  Sir  Thomas  Yarborough,*9  of  as  fair  a  complexion 
as  herself,  made  her  an  offer  of  marriage  in  the  height 
of  her  resentment,  and  was  accepted.  Chance  made 
up  this  match,  I  suppose,  as  an  experiment  to  try  what 
such  a  white-*7haired  union  would  produce. 

Miss  Price  was  witty;  and  as  her  person  was  not 
very  likely  to  attract  many  admirers,  which,  however, 

44  Yellow  gloves  and  ribands  (Vizetelly's  translation). 

48  Fair  hair  and  complexion  (ibid.). 

46  Son  of  Sir  Nicholas  Yarborough,  of  Snaith,  Yorkshire,  and 
cousin  of  Sir  John  Reresby.  The  character  of  Sir  Francis 
Wronghead  in  Gibber's  Provoked  Husband  is  said  to  have  been 
drawn  from  Sir  Thomas  (vide  Reresby's  Memoirs  1875  ed.,  note, 
p.  413).  4'Pale  (ibid.). 


250       THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

she  was  resolved  to  have,  she  was  far  from  being  coy 
when  an  occasion  offered;  she  did  not  so  much  as 
make  any  terms.  She  was  violent  in  her  resentments, 
as  well  as  in  her  attachments,  which  had  exposed  her 
to  some  inconveniences;  and  she  had  very  indiscreetly 
quarrelled  with  a  young  girl  whom  Lord  Rochester 
admired.  This  connection,  which  till  then  had  been  a 
secret,  she  had  the  imprudence  to  publish  to  the  whole 
world,  and  thereby  drew  upon  herself  the  most  danger- 
ous enemy  in  the  universe.  Never  did  any  man  write 
with  more  ease,  humour,  spirit,  and  delicacy;  but  he 
was  at  the  same  time  the  most  severe  satirist. 

Poor  Miss  Price,  who  had  thus  voluntarily  pro- 
voked his  resentment,  was  daily  exposed  in  some  new 
shape.  There  was  every  day  some  new  song  or  other, 
the  subject  of  which  was  her  conduct,  and  the  burden 
her  name.  How  was  it  possible  for  her  to  bear  up 
against  these  attacks,  in  a  Court  where  every  person 
was  eager  to  obtain  the  most  insignificant  trifle  that 
came  from  the  pen  of  Lord  Rochester?  The  loss  of 
her  lover,  and  the  discovery  that  attended  it,  was  only 
wanting  to  complete  the  persecution  that  was  raised 
against  her. 

About  this  time  died  Dongan,"  a  gentleman  of 
merit,  who  was  succeeded  by  Durfort,  afterwards  Earl 
of  Feversham,49  in  the  post  of  lieutenant  of  the  Duke's 

48  Robert   Dongan,  Dungan,  or  Duncan,  one   of   Nell  Gwyn's 
early  admirers,  and  possibly  he  who  introduced  her  first  to  the 
stage,   lieutenant   in   the   Duke   of   York's  Life   Guards,    an    ap- 
pointment   attributed    by   Etheridge    to    the    influence    of    Nelly 
(see  Cunningham's  Story  of  Nell  Gwyn~). 

49  Louis  de  Duras,  Earl  of  Feversham,  a  native  of  France,  being 
son  of  the  Duke  de  Duras,  and  brother  to  the  last  Duke  of  that 
name,  as  also  to  the  Duke  de  Lorge.     His  mother  was  sister  to 
the  great  Turenne,  of  the  princely  house  of  Bouillon.     After  the 
Restoration  he  came  to  England,  was  naturalised,  and  behaved 
with  great   gallantry  in  the   sea-fight   with   the  Dutch,   in    1665. 
He  then  bore  the  name  of  Durfort,  and  the  title  of  Marquis  of 
Blancfort    By  letters  patent,  ipth  January  1672-3,  he  was  created 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  251 

Life  Guards.  Miss  Price  having  tenderly  loved  him, 
his  death  plunged  her  into  a  gulf  of  despair;  but  the 
inventory  of  his  effects  almost  deprived  her  of  her 
senses.  There  was  in  it  a  certain  little  box  sealed  up 
on  all  sides;  it  was  addressed  in  the  deceased's  own 
handwriting  to  Miss  Price;  but  instead  of  receiving 
it,  she  had  not  even  the  courage  to  look  upon  it.  The 
governess  thought  it  became  her  in  prudence  to  receive 
it,  on  Miss  Price's  refusal,  and  her  duty  to  deliver  it 
«to  the  Duchess  herself,  supposing  it  was  filled  with 
many  curious  and  precious  commodities,  of  which 
perhaps  she  might  derive  some  advantage.  Though 
the  Duchess  was  not  altogether  of  the  same  opinion, 
she  had  the  curiosity  to  see  what  was  contained  in  a 
box  sealed  up  in  a  manner  so  particularly  carefully, 
and  therefore  caused  it  to  be  opened  in  the  presence 
of  some  ladies,  who  happened  then  to  be  in  her  closet. 
All  kinds  of  love  trinkets  were  found  in  it;  and  all 
these  favours,  it  appeared,  came  from  the  tender- 
hearted Miss  Price.  It  was  difficult  to  comprehend 
how  a  single  person  could  have  furnished  so  great  a 
collection ;  for,  besides  counting  the  pictures,  there  was 
hair  of  all  descriptions,  wrought  into  bracelets,  lockets, 
and  into  various  other  different  devices,  wonderful  to 

Baron  Duras  of  Holdenby,  Northampton,  and  having  married  in 
1676  Mary,  the  eldest  daughter  and  co-heir  of  Sir  George  Sondes, 
of  Lees  Court,  Kent,  who  had  been  created  Earl  of  Feversham, 
the  same  title  was  limited  to  him,  and  he  succeeded  to  it  on 
the  death  of  his  father-in-law  in  April  1677.  Besides  these 
honours,  King  Charles  preferred  him  to  the  command  of  the  third 
troop  of  Horse  Guards,  afterwards  promoted  him  to  the  second, 
and  then  to  the  first.  In  1679  he  was  made  Master  of  the  Horse 
to  Queen  Catharine,  and  afterwards  her  Lord-Chamberlain.  Upon 
King  James's  accession  he  was  admitted  into  the  Privy  Council, 
and  was  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  forces  sent  against  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth  (vide 'King  Monmouth).  After  the  Revolu- 
tion he  continued  Lord-Chamberlain  to  the  Queen  Dowager.  He 
died  8th  April  1709,  aged  sixty-eight,  and  was  buried  in  the 
Savoy,  in  the  Strand,  London;  but  removed,  2ist  March  1740,  to 
Westminster  Abbey. 


252       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

see.  After  these  were  three  or  four  packets  of  letters, 
of  so  tender  a  nature,  and  full  of  raptures  and  lan- 
guors so  naturally  expressed,  that  the  Duchess  could 
not  endure  the  reading  of  any  more  than  the  two  first. 

Her  Royal  Highness  was  sorry  that  she  had  caused 
the  box  to  be  opened  in  such  good  company;  for 
being  before  such  witnesses,  she  rightly  judged  it 
was  impossible  to  stifle  this  adventure;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  there  being  no  possibility  of  retaining  any 
'  longer  such  a  maid  of  honour,  Miss  Price  had  her 
valuables  restored  to  her,  with  orders  to  go  and  finish 
her  lamentations,  or  to  console  herself  for  the  loss  of 
her  lover,  in  some  other  place." 

Miss  Hobart's51  character  was  at  that  time  as  un- 
common in  England,  as  her  person  was  singular,  in  a 
country  where,  to  be  young,  and  not  to  be  in  some 
degree  handsome,  is  a  reproach ;  she  had  a  good  shape, 
rather  a  bold  air,  and  much  wit,  which  was  well  culti- 
vated, without  having  much  discretion.  She  was  like- 
wise possessed  of  a  considerable  amount  of  vivacity, 
with  an  irregular  fancy.  There  was  a  great  deal  of 
fire  in  her  eyes,  which,  however,  produced  no  effect 
upon  the  beholders ;  and  she  had  a  tender  heart,  whose 
sensibility  some  pretended  was  alone  in  favour  of  the 
fair  sex. 

Miss  Bagot"  was  the  first  that  gained  her  tenderness 
and  affection,  which  she  returned  at  first  with  equal 

"Miss  Price  was  Maid  of  Honour  to  the  Queen,  not  the 
Duchess  of  York. 

"The  sister  of  Sir  John  and  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Hobart, 
of  Blickling,  Norfolk.  Sir  Henry  (ob.  1625)  left  sixteen  chil- 
dren, from  one  of  whom  descended  John,  6rst  Earl  of  Bucking- 
hamshire (vide  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biog.). 

"Mary,  daughter  of  Colonel  Hervey  Bagot,  second  son  of  Sir 
Hervey  Bagot,  maid  of  honour  to  the  Duchess  of  York,  born 
1645.*  She  married,  1664,  first,  Charles  Berkley,  Earl  of  Fal- 
mouth,  and,  after  his  death  (3rd  June  1665),  Charles  Sackville, 
who  became  the  first  Duke  of  Dorset  From  the  pen  of  a  satirist 
1  Her  Christian  name  baa  often  been  erroneously  given  as  "  Elizabeth." 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  253 

warmth  and  sincerity;  but  perceiving  that  all  her 
friendship  was  insufficient  to  repay  that  of  Miss 
Hobart,  she  yielded  the  conquest  to  the  governess's 
niece,  who  thought  herself  as  much  honoured  by  it 
as  her  aunt  thought  herself  obliged  by  the  care  she 
took  of  the  young  girl. 

Satirical  ballads  soon  began  to  compliment  her 
upon  her  new  position ;  and  upon  the  insinuations  that 
were  therein  made,  her  companions  began  to  fear  her. 

much  dependence  is  not  to  be  placed  for  the  truth  of  facts. 
This  lady's  character  is  treated  by  Dryden  and  Mulgrave  with 
very  little  respect,  in  the  following  lines,  extracted  from  "  The 
Essay  on  Satire": 

"  Thus  Dorset,  purring  like  a  thoughtful  cat, 
Married ;  but  wiser  puss  ne'er  thought  of  that : 
And  first  he  worried  her  with  railing  rhyme, 
Like  Pembroke's  mastiffs  at  his  kindest  time; 
Then  for  one  night  sold  all  his  slavish  life, 
A  teeming  widow,  but  a  barren  wife; 
Swell'd  by  contact  of  such  a  fulsome  toad, 
He  lugg'd  about  the  matrimonial  load ; 
Till  fortune,  blindly  kind  as  well  as  he, 
Has  ill  restored  him  to  his  liberty; 
Which  he  would  use  in  his  old  sneaking  way, 
Drinking  all  night,  and  dozing  all  the  day ; 
Dull  as  Ned  Howard,8  whom  his  brisker  times 
Had  famed  for  dulness  in  malicious  rhym'es." 

Pepys  (on  2Qth  July  1667)  says  that  there  was  a  report  that 
Henry  Jermyn  was  going  to  marry  Lady  Falmouth,  at  which 
Lady  Castlemaine,  who  at  that  time  bestowed  her  favours  upon 
him,  was  "  mad."  Jermyn,  however,  married  the  daughter  of  Sir 
Edward  Poley.  The  diarist  mentions  her  again  on  4th  March 
1668-9.  She  died  I2th  September  1679,  and  was  buried  at 
Wythiam,  Sussex.  Lady  Mary  Berkeley,  h'er  only  daughter  by 
her  first  husband,  died  in  1693  and  was  buried  in  the  chancel 
of  Bexley  Church.  She  married  Sir  Gilbert  Gerard,  second 
Baron  Fiskerton,  from  whom  she  obtained  a  divorce  in  1684  (s'ee 
Banks's  Dormant  and  Extinct  Peerage). 

Before  the  Countess  of  Falmouth  married  Sackville  she  had 
been  spoken  of  as  a  possible  wife  of  the  Duke  of  York  after  the 
death  of  the  Duchess  in  1671.  At  Knole  Park  is  preserved  one 
of  Sackvill'e's  love-letters  containing  a  long  lock  of  his  (brown) 
hair. 

8  Edward  Howard,  fifth  son  of  Thomas  Howard,  first  Earl  of  Berkshire. 


254 

The  governess,  alarmed  at  these  reports,  consulted 
Lord  Rochester  upon  the  danger  to  which  her  niece 
was  exposed.  She  could  not  have  applied  to  a  fitter 
person.  He  immediately  advised  her  to  take  her 
niece  out  of  the  hands  of  Miss  Hobart ;  and  contrived 
matters  so  well  that  she  fell  into  his  own.  The 
Duchess,  who  had  too  much  generosity  not  to  treat 
as  visionary  what  was  imputed  to  Miss  Hobart,  and 
too  much  justice  to  condemn  her  upon  the  faith  of 
lampoons,  removed  her  from  the  society  of  the  maids 
of  honour,  to  be  an  attendant  upon  her  own  person. 

Miss  Bagot  was  the  only  one  who  was  really 
possessed  of  virtue  and  beauty  among  these  maids  of 
honour.  She  had  beautiful  and  regular  features,  and 
that  sort  of  brown  complexion,  which,  when  in  perfec- 
tion, is  so  particularly  fascinating,  and  more  especially 
in  England,  where  it  is  uncommon.  There  was  an 
involuntary  blush  almost  continually  upon  her  cheek, 
without  having  anything  to  blush  for.  Lord  Fal- 
mouth  cast  his  eyes  upon  her.  His  addresses  were 
better  received  than  those  of  Miss  Hobart,  and  some 
time  after  Cupid  raised  her  from  the  post  of  maid  of 
honour  to  the  Duchess,  to  a  rank  which  might  have 
been  envied  by  all  the  young  ladies  in  England. 

The  Duchess  of  York,  in  order  to  form  her  new 
Court,  resolved  to  see  all  the  young  persons  that 
offered  themselves,  and,  without  any  regard  to  recom- 
mendations, to  choose  none  but  the  handsomest. 

At  the  head  of  this  new  assembly  appeared  Miss 
Jennings  and  Miss  Temple;  and  indeed  they  so  en- 
tirely eclipsed  the  other  two,  that  we  shall  speak  of 
them  only. 

Miss  Jennings,51  adorned  with  all  the  blooming 
treasures  of  youth,  had  the  fairest  and  brightest  com- 

M Frances  Jenyns  (or  Jennings),  the  elder  sister  of  the  more 
famous  Sarah,  Duchess  of  Marlborough,  who,  when  maid  of 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  255 

plexion84  that  ever  was  seen.  Her  hair  was  of  a  most 
beauteous  flaxen.  There  was  something  particularly 
lively  and  animated  in  her  countenance,  which  pre- 
served her  from  that  insipidity  which  is  frequently 

honour  to  Mary  of  Modena,  also  received  the  Duke  of  York's 
unwelcome  attentions  (see  Louise  de  Keroualle,  p.  153).  They 
were  the  daughters  of  Richard  Jenyns  of  Sandridge,  near  St. 
Albans,  at  whose  house  they  were  brought  up.  Holywell  House, 
in  this  vicinity,  was  afterwards  built  by  the  Duke  of  Marlborough, 
and  pulled  down  in  1837.  The  wife  of  Richard  Jenyns,  Frances, 
daughter  of  Sir  Gifford  Thornhurst,  a  Kentish  baronet,  was  far 
from  a  pleasant  woman.  Miss  Strickland,  in  her  Lives  of  the 
Queens  of  England,  says  she  was  not  allowed  to  approach  the 
Court  on  account  of  her  infamous  character,  although  she  had 
laid  Charles  II.  under  some  mysterious  obligation  (xii.  p.  206). 
In  the  Belvoir  MS.,  under  date  23rd  November  1676,  however,  it 
appears  otherwise.  Sarah  and  her  mother,  it  is  stated,  actually 
came  to  blows,  and  the  daughter  threatened  to  run  away  if  the 
mother  was  not  ejected  from  St.  James's,  and  when  this  was 
requested  at  the  Duchess  of  York's  instigation,  she  answered 
"  with  all  her  heart  she  should  never  dispute  the  Duke  and 
Dutchesses  commands,  but  with  the  grace  of  God  she  would  take 
her  daughter  away  with  her,  for  two  of  the  maids  had  had  great 
bellies  att  Court,  and  she  would  not  leave  her  child  there  to 
have  a  third,  so  rather  than  part  with  her,  the  mother  must  stay." 
But  a  month  later  it  appears  that  "  Sarah  Jennings  hath  got  the 
better  of  her  mother,  who  is  commanded  to  leave  the  Court  and 
her  daughter  in  itt,  notwithstanding  the  mother's  petition  that 
she  might  have  her  girle  with  her,  the  girle  saying  she  is  a  mad 
woman]'  (25th  December). — Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  12,  App.  part 
v.  vol.  ii.  pp.  32  and  34.  Frances  married,  first,  George  Hamilton, 
and  secondly,  "  Dick  "  Talbot,  of  whom  full  particulars  are  given 
in  the  Memoirs.  By  the  latter  she  left  two  daughters.  By  Ham- 
ilton six  children  (the  three  daughters  being  Vicountesses  Ross, 
Dillon,  and  Kingsland).  Talbot,  Duke  of  Tyrconnel,  and  wife 
were  both  staunch  Jacobites,  and  directed  James's  affairs  in 
Ireland  when  he  visited  that  country  prior  to  the  battle  of  the 
Boyne.  The  royal  fugitive  and  Talbot  returned  to  Dublin  Castle, 
where  the  Duchess  received  the  Stuart  monarch  prior  to  his 
return  to  France.  The  story  is  told  that  James  being  the  first 
to  arrive,  his  Majesty  ungraciously  complimented  Lady  Tyr- 
connel on  the  running  powers  of  her  husband's  countrymen,  at 
which  she  retorted  that  his  Majesty  had  the  advantage  of  them 
(Diet,  of  Nat.  Biog.  vol.  Iv.  p.  335).  After  her  husband's  death 
of  apoplexy,  August  1691,  while  preparing  to  defend  Limerick 
against  King  William  (by  some  accounts  he  was  poisoned  in 
a  cup  of  ratafia),  the  titular  Duchess  joined  the  exiled  Court 


256       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

an  attendant  on  a  complexion  so  extremely  fair.  Her 
mouth  was  not  the  smallest,  but  it  was  the  hand- 
somest mouth  in  the  world.  Nature  had  endowed  her 
with  all  those  charms  which  cannot  be  expressed,  and 
the  graces  had  given  the  finishing  stroke  to  them.  The 
turn15  of  her  face  was  exquisitely  fine,  and  her  swell- 
ing neck68  was  as  fair  and  as  bright  as  her  face.  In  a 
word,  her  person  gave  the  idea  of  Aurora,  or  the  god- 
dess of  the  spring,  "such  as  youthful  poets  fancy  when 
they  love."  But  as  it  would  have  been  unjust  that  a 
single  person  should  have  engrossed  all  the  treasures 
of  beauty  without  any  defect,  there  was  something 
wanting  in  her  hands  and  arms  to  render  them  worthy 
of  the  rest;  her  nose  was  not  the  most  elegant,  and 
her  eyes  gave  some  relief,  whilst  her  mouth  and  her 
other  charms  pierced  the  heart  with  a  thousand  darts. 
With  this  amiable  person  she  was  full  of  wit  and 
sprightliness,  and  all  her  actions  and  motions  were 
unaffected  and  easy.  Her  conversation  was  bewitch- 
ing, when  she  had  a  mind  to  please;  piercing87  and 
delicate  when  disposed  to  raillery ;  but  as  her  imagina- 
tion was  subject  to  flights,  and  as  she  frequently  began 

at  St.  Germain,  and  received  a  pension  with  other  needy 
Jacobites.  When  her  brother,  the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  was 
in  Flanders,  she  had  frequent  access  to  him  and  acted  as  his 
agent.  Walpole's  story  of  the  widowed  Duchess  selling  haber- 
dashery at  a  stall  under  the  New  Exchange  is  very  doubtful  (vide 
Pennant's  London).  She,  however,  returned  to  England  in  1705, 
when  Holywell  House  was  put  at  her  disposal  by  her  brother-in- 
law,  and  afterwards,  obtaining  the  restoration  of  some  of  her 
husband's  property,  she  settled  in  Dublin,  where  she  estab- 
lished a  nunnery  in  King  Street,  and  died  6th  March  1730-1  (in 
her  eighty-second  year)  in  Paradise  Row,  near  Phoenix  Park. 
There  is  no  monument  to  her  memory  in  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral, 
but  in  the  Scottish  College  at  Paris  (destroyed  in  1860)  there 
was  a  mural  tablet  to  her  memory,  which  is  quoted  in  Steinman's 
Althorp  Memoirs,  pp.  72-73  (see  also  Jameson's  Beauties  of  the 
Court  of  Charles  II.) 

**A  skin  of  the  most   dazzling  whiteness    (Vizetelly's  trans- 
lation). "Outline  (Vizetelly). 

"Budding  bosom  (ibid.).        "Subtle  (ibid.). 


COUNT   DE  GRAMONT  257 

to  speak  before  she  had  done  thinking,  her  expressions 
did  not  always  convey  what  she  wished;  sometimes 
exceeding,  and  at  others  falling  short  of  her  ideas." 

Miss  Temple,"  nearly  of  the  same  age,  was  brown* 
compared  with  the  other.    She  had  a  good  shape,  fine 

"The  French  Ambassador  Courtin  describes  her  (4th  May 
1665)  as  "one  of  the  fairest  girls  in  England.  .  .  .  She  is  small 
but  with  a  fine  figure,  a  splendid  complexion,  the  hair  such  as 
you  [Lionne]  remember  Madame  de  Longueville's  was,  brilliant 
keen  eyes,  the  whitest,  smoothest  skin  I  ever  saw."  The  young 
Marquis  di  Berni  (eldest  son  of  Hugues  de  Lionne,  Foreign 
Secretary  to  King  Louis),  having  been  sent  by  his  father  to 
the  English  Court  under  the  wing  of  the  French  Ambassador 
that  he  might  obtain  some  knowledge  of  the  world,  soon  after 
his  arrival  fell  a  slave  to  the  charms  of  Miss  Jenyns,  who  on 
her  part  was  far  from  indifferent  Under  the  watchful  eye 
of  the  King,  the  Queen  Mother,  Duchess  of  York,  and  Court 
generally,  the  little  romance  is  allowed  to  develop,  while  the 
father  is  assured  by  Courtin  that  he  will  check  the  liaison  if 
necessary,  saying  "his  intrigue  is  exactly  at  the  point  where  it 
must  be  to  make  him  a  man  of  the  world."  There  were  daily 
meetings,  and  love  tokens  sent  in  the  shape  of  strawberries  to 
the  fair  one.  At  length,  however,  there  is  a  tiff.  Miss  Jenyns 
refuses  to  have  her  hands  kissed,  and  her  lover  retaliates  by 
making  advances  to  Miss  Boynton  (who  also  figures  in  the 
Memoirs},  which  has  the  desired  effect  and  brings  the  former 
lady  to  reason.  At  the  end  of  three  months  the  love  story  is 
over;  young  Lionne's  sojourn  in  London  was  at  an  end.  On 
27th  July  (1665)  the  father  hears  from  Courtin  that  on  "Thurs- 
day evening  the  King  of  England  teased  very  much  in  my  pres- 
ence Mrs.  Genins  [Jenyns]  on  the  subject  of  your  son:  the  young 
girl  reddened :  she  never  appeared  more  beautiful.  His  Majesty 
told  me  that  your  son  had  asked  M.  Porter1  to  let  him  know 
how  she  looked  on  the  day  he  was  gone,  and  at  the  same  time 
his  Majesty  assured  me  that  he  had  never  seen  such  a  picture 
of  sadness  and  desolation  as  the  young  gallant  offered  when 
on  board  the  yacht  of  the  Queen  Mother.  He  was  right,  I  can 
tell  you,  for  the  young  lady  loved  him  dearly,  and  if  the  one 
who  reduced  you  to  the  taking  of  certain  waters  flavouring  of 
turpentine  had  been  as  beautiful,  your  stomach  would  not  have 
been  easily  restored  to  health"  (see  Jusserand's  Ambassador  at 
the  Court  of  Charles  11.  pp.  153-157). 

"Anne,  daughter  of  Thomas  Temple  of  Frankton,  Warwick- 
shire ;  by  Rebecca,  daughter  of  Sir  Nicholas  Carew,  of  Bedding- 
ton,  Surrey,  knight  She  became  the  second  wife  of  Sir  Charles 
Lyttelton,  by  whom  she  had  five  sons  and  eight  daughters  (ob* 

1  Probiblv  Charles  or  Thnraw  Port**  treotJowd  to  P«jy«'? 


258       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

teeth,  languishing  eyes,  a  fresh  complexion,  an  agree- 
able smile,  and  a  lively  air.  Such  was  the  outward 
form;  but  it  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  rest; 
for  she  was  simple  and  vain,  credulous  and  suspicious, 
coquettish  and  prudent,'1  very  self -sufficient  and  very 
silly. 

As  soon  as  these  new  stars  appeared  at  the 
Duchess's  Court,  all  eyes  were  fixed  upon  them,  and 
everyone  formed  some  design  upon  one  of  them  or 
the  other,  some  with  honourable,  and  others  with  dis- 
honest intentions.  Miss  Jennings  soon  distinguished 
herself,  and  left  her  companions  no  other  admirers 
but  such  as  remained  constant  from  hopes  of  success. 
Her  brilliant  charms  attracted  at  first  sight,  and  the 
charms  of  her  wit  secured  her  conquests. 

The  Duke  of  York  having  persuaded  himself  that 
she  was  part  of  his  property,  resolved  to  pursue  his 
claim  by  the  same  title  whereby  his  brother  had 
appropriated  to  himself  the  favours  of  Miss  Wells; 
but  he  did  not  find  her  inclined  to  enter  into  his 
service,  though  she  had  engaged  in  that  of  the  Duchess. 
She  would  not  pay  any  attention  to  the  perpetual 
ogling  with  which  he  at  first  attacked  her.  Her  eyes 
were  always  wandering  on  other  objects,  when  those 
of  his  Royal  Highness  were  looking  for  them;  and  if 
by  chance  he  caught  any  casual  glance,  she  did  not 
even  blush.  This  made  him  resolve  to  change  his 
manner  of  attack:  ogling  having  proved  ineffectual, 
he  took  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  her ;  and  this  was 
still  worse.  I  know  not  in  what  strain  he  told  his 

1718).  On  the  accession  of  James  II.,  Sir  Charles  was  made 
Brigadier-General.  He  succeeded  to  the  baronetcy  on  the  death 
of  his  brother,  Sir  Henry  Lyttelton,  who  died  in  1693.  Sir 
Charles  died  at  Hagley  in  1716,  aged  eighty-six.  His  son  Thomas 
married  also  a  Miss  Temple  (maid  of  honour),  the  daughter  of 
Sir  Richard  Temple  of  Stowe,  Bucks. 
"Dark  (Vizetelly).  "Prudish  (ibid.). 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  259 

case;  but  it  is  certain  the  oratory  of  the  tongue  was 
not  more  prevailing  than  the  eloquence  of  his  eyes. 

Miss  Jennings  had  both  virtue  and  pride,  and  the 
proposals  of  the  Duke  were  consistent  with  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other.  Although  from  her  great  vi- 
vacity one  might  suppose  that  she  was  not  capable  of 
much  reflection,  yet  she  had  furnished  herself  with 
some  very  salutary  maxims  for  the  conduct  of  a  young 
person  of  her  age.  The  first  was,  that  a  lady  ought 
to  be  young  to  enter  the  Court  with  advantage,  and 
not  old  to  leave  it  with  a  good  grace;  that  she  could 
not  maintain  herself  there  but  by  a  glorious  resistance, 
or  by  illustrious  foibles;  and  that,  in  so  dangerous  a 
situation,  she  ought  to  use  her  utmost  endeavours  not 
to  dispose  of  her  heart  until  she  gave  her  hand. 

Entertaining  such  sentiments,  she  had  far  less  trou- 
ble to  resist  the  Duke's  temptations  than  to  disengage 
herself  from  his  perseverance.  She  was  deaf  to  all 
treaties  for  a  settlement,  with  which  her  ambition 
was  sounded ;  and  all  offers  of  presents  succeeded  still 
worse.  What  was  then  to  be  done  to  conquer  an 
extravagant  virtue  that  would  not  hearken  to  reason? 
He  was  ashamed  to  suffer  a  giddy  young  girl  to 
escape,  whose  inclinations  ought  in  some  manner  to 
correspond  with  the  vivacity  that  shone  forth  in  all 
her  actions,  and  who  nevertheless  thought  proper  to 
be  serious  when  no  such  thing  as  seriousness  was  re- 
quired of  her. 

After  he  had  attentively  considered  her  obstinate 
behaviour,  he  thought  that  writing  might  perhaps  suc- 
ceed, though  ogling,  speeches,  and  embassies  had 
failed.  Paper  receives  everything,  and  it  unfortunate- 
ly happened  that  she  would  not  receive  the  paper. 
Every  day  billets,  containing  the  tenderest  expressions, 
and  most  magnificent  promises,  were  slipped  into  her 
pockets,  or  into  her  muff.  This,  however,  could  not  be 

9 — Memoirs  Vol.  4 


26o       THE   COURT   OF  CHARLES   II 

done  unperceived ;  and  the  malicious  little  gipsy0  took 
care  that  those  who  saw  them  slip  in,  should  likewise 
see  them  fall  out,  unperused  and  unopened;  she  only 
shook  her  muff,  or  pulled  out  her  handkerchief;  as 
soon  as  ever  his  back  was  turned,  his  billets  fell  about 
her  like  hailstones,  and  whoever  pleased  might  take 
them  up.  The  Duchess  was  frequently  a  witness  of 
this  conduct,  but  could  not  find  in  her  heart  to  chide 
her  for  her  want  of  respect  to  the  Duke.  After  this, 
the  charms  and  prudence  of  Miss  Jennings  were  the 
only  subjects  of  conversation  in  the  two  Courts:  the 
courtiers  could  not  comprehend  how  a  young  creature, 
brought  directly  from  the  country  to  Court,  should 
so  soon  become  its  ornament  by  her  attractions,  and 
its  example  by  her  conduct. 

The  King  was  of  opinion  that  those  who  had  at- 
tacked her  had  ill-concerted  their  measures;  for  he 
thought  it  unnatural  that  she  should  neither  be  tempted 
by  promises,  nor  gained  by  importunity:  she,  espe- 
cially, who  in  all  probability  had  not  imbibed  such 
severe  precepts  from  the  prudence  of  her  mother,  who 
had  never  tasted  anything  more  delicious  than  the 
plums  and  apricots  of  St.  Albans."  Being  resolved 
to  try  her  himself,  he  was  particularly  pleased  with 
the  great  novelty  that  appeared  in  the  turn  of  her  wit, 
and  in  the  charms  of  her  person ;  and  curiosity,  which 
at  first  induced  him  to  make  the  trial,  was  soon  changed 
into  a  desire  of  succeeding  in  the  experiment.  God 
knows  what  might  have  been  the  consequence,  for  he 
greatly  excelled  in  wit,  and  besides  he  was  king:  two 
qualities  of  no  small  consideration.  The  resolutions 
of  the  fair  Jennings  were  commendable,  and  very 
judicious;  but  yet  she  was  wonderfully  pleased  with 

"Creature  ( Vizetelly") . 

"Sandridge,  where  the  Jennings  family  lived,  is  2^2  miles  to 
the  N.  E.  of  St.  Albans. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  261 

wit;  and  royal  majesty  prostrate  at  the  feet  of  a 
young  person  is  very  persuasive.  Miss  Stewart,  how- 
ever, would  not  consent  to  the  King's  project. 

She  immediately  took  the  alarm,  and  desired  his 
Majesty  to  leave  to  the  Duke,  his  brother,  the  care  of 
tutoring  the  Duchess's  maids  of  honour,  and  only  to 
attend  to  the  management  of  his  own  flock,  unless 
his  Majesty  would  in  return  allow  her  to  listen  to 
certain  proposals  of  a  settlement  which  she  did  not 
think  disadvantageous.  This  menace  being  of  a  seri- 
ous nature,  the  King  obeyed;  and  Miss  Jennings  had 
all  the  additional  honour  which  arose  from  this 
adventure;  it  both  added  to  her  reputation,  and  in- 
creased the  number  of  her  admirers.  Thus  she  con- 
tinued to  triumph  over  the  liberties  of  others  without 
ever  losing  her  own.  Her  hour  was  not  yet  come, 
but  it  was  not  far  distant,  the  particulars  of  which 
we  shall  relate  as  soon  as  we  have  given  some  account 
of  the  conduct  of  her  companion. 

Though  Miss  Temple's  person  was  particularly 
charming,  it  was  nevertheless  eclipsed  by  that  of  Miss 
Jennings;  but  she  was  still  more  excelled  by  the 
other's  superior  mental  accomplishments.  Two  per- 
sons, very  capable  to  impart  understanding,  had  the 
gift  been  communicable,  undertook  at  the  same  time 
to  rob  her  of  the  little  she  really  possessed :  these  were 
Lord  Rochester  and  Miss  Hobart.  The  first  began 
to  mislead  her  by  reading  to  her  all  his  compositions, 
as  if  she  alone  had  been  a  proper  judge  of  them.  He 
never  thought  proper  to  flatter  her  upon  her  personal 
accomplishments;  but  told  her  that  if  Heaven  had 
made  him  susceptible  of  the  impressions  of  beauty,  it 
would  not  have  been  possible  for  him  to  have  escaped 
her  chains;  but  not  being,  thank  God,  affected  with 
anything  but  wit,  he  had  the  happiness  of  enjoying 
the  most  agreeable  conversation  in  the  world  without 


262       THE    COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

running  any  risk.  After  so  sincere  a  confession  he 
either  presented  to  her  a  copy  of  verses,  or  a  new  song, 
in  which  whoever  dared  to  come  in  competition  in  any 
respect  with  Miss  Temple  was  laid  prostrate  before  her 
charms,  most  humbly  to  solicit  pardon.  Such  flat- 
tering insinuations  so  completely  turned  her  head  that 
it  was  a  pity  to  see  her. 

The  Duchess  took  notice  of  it,  and  well  knowing 
the  extent  of  both  their  geniuses,  she  saw  the  precipice 
into  which  the  poor  girl  was  running  headlong  with- 
out perceiving  it;  but  as  it  is  no  less  dangerous  to 
forbid  a  connection  that  is  not  yet  thought  of,  than  it 
is  difficult  to  put  an  end  to  one  that  is  already  well 
established,  Miss  Hobart  was  charged  to  take  care, 
with  all  possible  discretion,  that  these  frequent  and 
long  conversations  might  not  be  attended  with  any 
dangerous  consequences.  With  pleasure  she  accepted 
the  commission,  and  greatly  flattered  herself  with 
achieving  success. 

She  had  already  made  all  necessary  advances  to 
gain  possession  of  her  confidence  and  friendship;  and 
Miss  Temple,  less  suspicious  of  her  than  of  Lord 
Rochester,  made  all  imaginable  returns.  She  was 
greedy  of  praise,  and  loved  all  manner  of  sweetmeats, 
as  much  as  a  child  of  nine  or  ten  years  old :  her  taste 
was  gratified  in  both  these  respects.  Miss  Hobart 
having  the  superintendence  of  the  Duchess's  baths,  her 
apartment  joined  them,  in  which  there  was  a  closet 
stored  with  all  sorts  of  sweetmeats  and  liqueurs.  The 
closet  suited  Miss  Temple's  taste,  as  exactly  as  it 
gratified  Miss  Hobart's  inclination,  to  have  something 
that  could  allure  her. 

Summer,  being  now  returned,  brought  back  with  it 
the  pleasures  and  diversions  that  are  its  inseparable 
attendants.  One  day,  when  the  ladies  had  been  taking 
the  air  on  horseback,  Miss  Temple,  on  her  return  from 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  263 

riding,  alighted  at  Miss  Hobart's  in  order  to  recover 
her  fatigue  at  the  expense  of  the  sweetmeats,  which 
she  knew  were  there  at  her  service;  but  before  she 
began  she  desired  Miss  Hobart's  permission  to  undress 
herself,  and  change  her  linen  in  her  apartment,  which 
request  was  immediately  complied  with.  "I  was  just 
going  to  propose  it  to  you,"  said  Miss  Hobart,  "not  but 
that  you  are  as  charming  as  an  angel  in  your  riding 
habit;  but  there  is  nothing  so  comfortable  as  a  loose 
dress,  and  being  at  one's  ease.  You  cannot  imagine, 
my  dear  Temple,"  continued  she,  embracing  her,  "how 
much  you  oblige  me  by  this  free  unceremonious  con- 
duct; but,  above  all,  I  am  enchanted  with  your  par- 
ticular attention  to  cleanliness.  How  greatly  you 
differ  in  this,  as  in  many  other  things,  from  that  silly 
creature  Jennings!  Have  you  remarked  how  all  our 
Court  fops  admire  her  for  her  brilliant  complexion, 
which  perhaps,  after  all,  is  not  wholly  her  own;  and 
for  blunders,  which  are  truly  original,  and  which  they 
are  such  fools  as  to  mistake  for  wit.  I  have  not 
conversed  with  her  long  enough  to  perceive  in  what 
her  wit  consists ;  but  of  this  I  am  certain,  that  if  it  is 
not  better  than  her  feet,  it  is  no  great  matter.  What 
stories  have  I  heard  of  her  sluttishness.  No  cat  ever 
dreaded  water  so  much  as  she  does:  fie  upon  her! 
Never  to  wash  for  her  own  comfort,  and  only  to  attend 
to  those  parts  which  must  necessarily  be  seen,  such  as 
the  neck  and  hands." 

Miss  Temple  swallowed  all  this  with  even  greater 
pleasure  than  the  sweetmeats ;  and  the  officious  Hobart 
not  to  lose  time,  was  helping  her  off  with  her  clothes, 
while  the  chamber-maid  was  coming.  She  made  some 
objections  to  this  at  first,  being  unwilling  to  occasion 
that  trouble  to  a  person  who,  like  Miss  Hobart,  had 
been  advanced  to  a  place  of  dignity;  but  she  was 
overruled  by  her,  and  assured  that  it  was  with  the 


264       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

greatest  pleasure  she  showed  her  that  small  mark  of 
civility.  The  collation  being  finished  and  Miss  Temple 
undressed :  "Let  us  retire,"  said  Miss  Hobart,  "to  the 
bathing-closet,  where  we  may  enjoy  a  little  conversa- 
tion secure  from  any  impertinent  visit."  Miss  Temple 
consented,  and  both  of  them  sitting  down  on  a  couch: 
"You  are  too  young,  my  dear  Temple,"  said  she,  "to 
know  the  baseness  of  men  in  general,  and  too  short  a 
time  acquainted  with  the  Court  to  know  the  character 
of  its  inhabitants.  I  will  give  you  a  short  sketch  of 
the  principal  persons'4  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge, 
without  injury  to  any  one;  for  I  abominate  the  trade 
of  scandal. 

"In  the  first  place,  then,  you  ought  to  set  it  down 
as  an  undoubted  fact  that  all  courtiers  are  deficient 
either  in  honesty,  good  sense,  judgment,  wit,  or  sin- 
cerity; that  is  to  say,  if  any  of  them  by  chance  possess 
some  one  of  these  qualities,  you  may  depend  upon 
it  he  is  defective  in  the  rest:  sumptuous  in  their 
equipages,  deep  play,  a  great  opinion  of  their  own 
merit,  and  contempt  of  that  of  others,  are  their  chief 
characteristics. 

"Interest  or  pleasure  are  the  motives  of  all  their 
actions.  Those  who  are  led  by  the  first  would  sell  God 
Almighty,  as  Judas  sold  his  Master,  and  that  for  less 
money.  I  could  relate  you  a  thousand  noble  instances 
of  this,  if  I  had  time.  As  for  the  sectaries  of  pleasure, 
or  those  who  pretend  to  be  such,  for  they  are  not  all  so 
bad  as  they  endeavour  to  make  themselves  appear, 
these  gentlemen  pay  no  manner  of  regard  either  to 
promises,  oaths,  law,  or- religion;  that  is  to  say,  they 
are  literally  no  respecters  of  persons ;  they  care  neither 
for  God  nor  man,  if  they  can  but  gain  their  ends.  They 
look  upon  maids  of  honour  only  as  amusements,  placed 
expressly  at  Court  for  their  entertainment;  and  the 
••Gentlemen  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  265 

more  merit  any  one  has,  the  more  she  is  exposed  to 
their  impertinence,  if  she  gives  any  ear  to  them;  and 
to  their  malicious  calumnies,  when  she  ceases  to  attend 
to  them.  As  for  husbands,  this  is  not  the  place  to  find 
them ;  for  unless  money  or  caprice  make  up  the  match, 
there  is  but  little  hope  of  being  married:  virtue  and 
beauty  in  this  respect  here  are  equally  useless.  Lady 
Falmouth  is  the  only  instance  of  a  maid  of  honour 
well  married  without  a  portion;  and  if  you  were  to 
ask  her  poor  weak  husband  for  what  reason  he  mar- 
ried her,  I  am  persuaded  that  he  can  assign  none, 
unless  it  be  her  great  red  ears  and  broad  feet.  As  for 
the  pale  Lady  Yarborough,  who  appeared  so  proud  of 
her  match,  she  is  wife,  to  be  sure,  of  a  great  country 
bumpkin,  who,  the  very  week  after  their  marriage, 
bid  her  take  her  farewell  of  the  town  for  ever,  in  con- 
sequence of  five  or  six  thousand68  pounds  a  year  he 
enjoys  on  the  borders  of  Cornwall.  Alas !  poor  Miss 
Blague!  I  saw  her  go  away  about  this  time  twelve- 
month, in  a  coach  with  four  such  lean  horses,  that  I 
cannot  believe  she  is  yet  halfway  to  her  miserable  little 
castle.  What  can  be  the  matter!  all  the  girls  seem 
afflicted  with  the  rage  of  wedlock,  and  however  small 
their  portion  of  charms  may  be,  they  think  it  only 
necessary  to  show  themselves  at  Court  in  order  to 
pick  and  choose  their  men ;  but  were  this  in  reality  the 
case,  being  a  wife  is  the  most  wretched  condition  imag- 
inable for  a  person  of  nice  sentiments.  Believe  me, 
my  dear  Temple,  the  pleasures  of  matrimony  are  so 
inconsiderable  in  comparison  with  its  inconveniences, 
that  I  cannot  imagine  how  any  reasonable  creature  can 
resolve  upon  it:  rather  fly,  therefore,  from  this  irk- 
some engagement  than  court  it.  Jealousy,  formerly  a 
stranger  to  these  happy  isles,  is  now  coming  into  fash- 
ion, with  many  recent  examples  of  which  you  are  ac- 
"Some  few  hundred  (Vizetell/s  translation). 


266       THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

quainted.  However  brilliant  the  phantom  may  appear, 
suffer  not  yourself  to  be  caught  by  its  splendour,  and 
never  be  so  weak  as  to  transform  your  slave  into  your 
tyrant :  as  long  as  you  preserve  your  own  liberty,  you 
will  be  mistress  of  that  of  others.  I  will  relate  to  you 
a  very  recent  proof  of  the  perfidy  of  man  to  our  sex, 
and  of  the  impunity  they  experience  in  all  attempts 
upon  our  innocence.  The  Earl  of  Oxford88  fell  in  love 
with  a  handsome,  graceful  actress  belonging  to  the 
Duke's  Theatre,  who  performed  to  perfection,  par- 
ticularly the  part  of  Roxana,87  in  a  very  fashionable 
new  play,  insomuch  that  she  ever  after  retained  that 
name.  This  creature  being  both  very  virtuous  and 
very  modest,  or,  if  you  please,  wonderfully  obstinate, 
proudly  rejected  the  addresses  and  presents  of  the  Earl 
of  Oxford.  This  resistance  inflamed  his  passion.  He 

"This  was  Aubrey  de  Vere,  the  twentieth  and  last  Earl  of  Ox- 
ford of  that  nanre.  In  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  he  was  Chief 
Justice  in  Eyre  of  the  Royal  Forests,  Lord  of  the  Bedchamber, 
Privy  Councillor,  Colonel  of  the  Royal  Regiment  of  Horse 
Guards,  and  Lord-Lieutenant  of  the  County  of  Essex ;  and,  in 
the  reign  of  William  III.,  Li'eutenant-General  of  the  Forces.  He 
died  I2th  March  1702-3,  aged  seventy-five,  and  was  buried  in 
Westminster  Abbey  (see  Malone's  edition  of  Dryden).  From 
1663  to  1676  the  Earl  lived  in  the  Piazza,  Covent  Garden. 

87  This  should  be  "  Roxalana,"  a  character  in  the  Siege  of 
Rhodes,  acted  prior  to  Qth  January  1661-2  by  Betty  Davenport, 
the  younger  of  two  sisters  of  that  name.  Evelyn  mentions  hav- 
ing seen  "  ye  faire  and  famous  comedian "  in  the  piece  before 
she  was  "taken  to  be  the  Earl  of  Oxford's  misse,"  which  sad 
occurrence  is  bewailed  by  Pepys  (r8th  February  and  soth  May 
1661-2).  The  elder  sister,  Frances  Davenport,  remained  on  the 
stage  until  1668,  when  she  also  went  "  to  be  kept  by  somebody, 
which  I  am  glad  of,"  says  Pepys  (7th  April  1668),  "she  being  a 
very  bad  actor."  "Roxalana"  was  aged  eighteen  (born  3rd 
March  1642)  at  the  time  the  scandalous  mock-marriage  removed 
her  from  the  Duke's  Theatre.  She  had  a  son,  afterwards  called 
Aubrey  Vere,  by  the  Earl  of  Oxford,  born  17th  April  1664.  The 
Countess  of  Dunois,  who  relates  at  some  length  the  sad  story 
of  Roxalana's  seduction,  says  that  when  she  discovered  that 
she  had  been  duped,  she  tried  to  put  an  end  to  her  life  with 
her  betrayer's  sword.  She  further  says,  Roxalana  "  attempted 
to  make  her  marriage  good  in  law,  but  the  power  of  the  Earl 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  267 

had  recourse  to  invectives,  and  even  to  spells;  but  all 
in  vain.  This  disappointment  had  such  effect  upon 
him  that  he  could  neither  eat  nor  drink.  This  did  not 
signify  to  him;  but  his  passion  at  length  became  so 
violent,  that  he  could  neither  play  nor  smoke.  In  this 
extremity  Love  had  recourse  to  Hymen.  The  Earl  of 
Oxford,  one  of  the  first  peers  of  the  realm,  is,  you 
know,  a  very  handsome  man :  he  is  of  the  Order  of  the 
Garter,  which  greatly  adds  to  an  air  naturally  noble. 
In  short,  from  his  outward  appearance,  you  would 
suppose  he  was  really  possessed  of  some  sense;  but 
soon  as  ever  you  hear  him  speak,  you  are  perfectly 
convinced  of  the  contrary.  This  passionate  lover  pre- 
sented her  with  a  promise  of  marriage,  in  due  form, 
signed  with  his  own  hand.  She  would  not,  however, 
rely  upon  this,  but  the  next  day  she  thought  there 
could  be  no  danger,  when  the  Earl  himself  came  to 
her  lodgings  attended  by  a  clergyman,  and  another 
man  for  a  witness.  The  marriage  was  accordingly 
solemnised  with  all  due  ceremonies,  in  the  presence 
of  one  of  her  fellow-players,  who  attended  as  a  wit- 
ness on  her  part.  You  will  suppose,  perhaps,  that  the 
new  Countess  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  appear  at 
Court  according  to  her  rank,  and  to  display  the  Earl's 
arms  upon  her  carriage.  This  was  far  from  being 
the  case.  When  examination  was  made  concerning 
the  marriage,  it  was  found  to  be  a  mere  decep- 
tion. It  appeared  that  the  pretended  priest  was 
one  of  my  lord's  trumpeters,  and  the  witness  his 
kettle-drummer. 

carry'd  it  above  the  poor  actress.  However,  he  was  forced  to 
allow  her  a  maintenance  and  to  provide  for  a  son  she  brought 
into  the  world"  (see  Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  England,  1707, 
pp.  448-449).  By  an  error  in  the  translation  of  the  Memoirs, 
the  story  has  been  associated  with  "  Roxana "  of  The  Rival 
Queens,  produced  and  acted  by  the  more  famous  actress,  Mrs. 
Marshall,  at  the  King's  Theatre  (see  Sir  Wm.  Davenant's  Works, 
1873,  iii.  252,  etc.). 


268       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

The  parson  and  his  companion  never  appeared  after 
the  ceremony  was  over ;  and  as  for  the  other  witness, 
they  endeavoured  to  persuade  her,  that  the  Sultana 
Roxana  must  have  supposed,  in  some  part  or  other  of 
a  play,  that  she  was  really  married.  It  was  all  to  no 
purpose  that  the  poor  creature  claimed  the  protection 
of  the  laws  of  God  and  man,  both  which  were  violated 
and  abused,  as  well  as  herself,  by  this  infamous  im- 
position. In  vain  did  she  throw  herself  at  the  King's 
feet  to  demand  justice :  she  had  only  to  rise  up  again 
without  redress ;  and  happy  might  she  think  herself  to 
receive  an  annuity  of  one  thousand  crowns,  and  to 
resume  the  name  of  Roxana,  instead  of  Countess  of 
Oxford.  You  will  say,  perhaps,  that  she  was  only  a 
player;  that  all  men  have  not  the  same  sentiments 
as  the  Earl;  and,  that  one  may  at  least  believe  them, 
when  they  do  but  render  justice  to  such  merit  as  yours. 
But  still  do  not  believe  them,  though  I  know  you  are 
liable  to  it,  as  you  have  admirers;  for  all  are  not 
infatuated  with  Miss  Jennings.  The  handsome  Sidney 
ogles  you ;  Lord  Rochester  is  delighted  with  your  con- 
versation; and  the  most  serious  Sir  Charles  Lyttelton 
forsakes  his  natural  gravity  in  favour  of  your  charms. 
As  for  the  first,  I  confess  his  figure  is  very  likely  to 
engage  the  inclinations  of  a  young  person  like  your- 
self; but  were  his  outward  form  attended  with  other 
accomplishments,  which  I  know  it  is  not,  and  that  his 
sentiments  in  your  favour  were  as  real  as  he  en- 
deavours to  persuade  you  they  are,  and  as  you  deserve, 
yet  I  would  not  advise  you  to  form  any  connections 
with  him,  for  reasons  which  I  cannot  tell  you  at 
present. 

"Sir  Charles  Lyttelton*  is  undoubtedly  in  earnest, 

•Sir  Charles  Lyttelton,  seventh  son  of  Thomas  Lyttelton  and 
brother  of  Sir  Henry  Lyttelton,  the  second  Baronet.  He  fought 
for  the  Royalist  cause  at  the  siege  of  Colchester,  battle  of  Worces- 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  269 

since  he  appears  ashamed  of  the  condition  to  which 
you  have  reduced  him;  and  I  really  believe  if  he  could 
get  the  better  of  those  vulgar  chimerical  apprehensions, 
of  being  what  is  vulgarly  called  a  cuckold,  the  good 
man  would  marry  you,  and  you  would  be  his  repre- 
sentative in  his  little  government,  where  you  might 
merrily  pass  your  days  in  casting  up  the  weekly  bills 
of  housekeeping,  and  in  darning  old  napkins.  What 
a  glory  would  it  be  to  have  a  Cato  for  a  husband, 
whose  speeches  are  as  many  lectures,  and  whose  lec- 
tures are  composed  of  nothing  but  ill-nature  and 
censure ! 

"Lord  Rochester  is,  without  contradiction,  the  most 
witty  man  in  all  England;  but  then  he  is  likewise 
the  most  unprincipled,  and  devoid  even  of  the  least 
tincture  of  honour;  he  is  dangerous  to  our  sex  alone; 
and  that  to  such  a  degree  that  there  is  not  a  woman 
who  gives  ear  to  him  three  times,  but  she  irretrievably 
loses  her  reputation.  No  woman  can  escape  him,  for 
he  has  her  in  his  writings,  if  his  other  attacks  be  in- 
effectual ;  and  in  the  age  we  live  in,  the  one  is  as  bad 
as  the  other  in  the  eye  of  the  public.  In  the  meantime 
nothing  is  more  dangerous  than  the  artful  insinuating 
manner  with  which  he  gains  possession  of  the  mind. 
He  applauds  your  taste,  submits  to  your  sentiments, 
and  at  the  very  instant  that  he  himself  does  not  believe 
a  single  word  of  what  he  is  saying,  he  makes  you 
believe  it  all.  I  dare  lay  a  wager,  that  from  the  con- 
versation you  have  had  with  him,  you  thought  him 
one  of  the  most  honourable  and  sincerest  men  living; 
for  my  part  I  cannot  imagine  what  he  means  by  the 
assiduity  he  pays  you:  not  but  your  accomplishments 
are  sufficient  to  excite  the  adoration  and  praise  of  the 

ter,  and  in  Sir  George  Booth's  rising  in  Cheshire,  and  after- 
wards joined  Charles  II.  in  exile.  Knighted  1662,  afterwards 
colonel  in  the  Duke  of  York's  regiment.  See  also  note,  p.  257. 


270       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

whole  world;*  but  had  he  even  been  so  fortunate  as 
to  have  gained  your  affections,  he  would  not  know 
what  to  do  with  the  loveliest  creature  at  Court;  for  it 
is  a  long  time  since  his  debauches,  with  the  assistance 
of  the  favours  of  all  the  common  street-walkers,  have 
brought  him  to  order.  See  then,  my  dear  Temple, 
what  horrid  malice  possesses  him,  to  the  ruin  and 
confusion  of  innocence!  A  wretch!  to  have  no  other 
design  in  his  addresses  and  assiduities  to  Miss  Temple, 
but  to  give  a  greater  air  of  probability  to  the  calumnies 
with  which  he  has  loaded  her.  You  look  upon  me  with 
astonishment,  and  seem  to  doubt  the  truth  of  what  I 
advance ;  but  I  do  not  desire  you  to  believe  me  with- 
,  out  evidence.  Here,"  said  she,  drawing  a  paper  out 
of  her  pocket,  "see  what  a  copy  of  verses  he  has  made 
in  your  praise,  while  he  lulls  your  credulity  to  rest,  by 
flattering  speeches  and  feigned  respect." 

After  saying  this,  the  perfidious  Hobart  showed  her 
half  a  dozen  couplets  full  of  strained  invective  and 
scandal,  which  Rochester  had  made  against  the  former 
maids  of  honour.  This  severe  and  stinging  lampoon 
was  principally  levelled  against  Miss  Price,  whose 
person  he  cut  to  pieces  in  the  most  frightful  and 
hideous  manner  imaginable.  Miss  Hobart  had  sub- 
stituted the  name  of  Temple  instead  of  Price,  which 
she  made  to  agree  both  with  the  measure  and  tune 
of  the  song.  This  effectually  answered  Hobart's 
intentions. 

The  credulous  Temple  no  sooner  heard  her  sing  the 
lampoon,  but  she  firmly  believed  it  to  be  made  upon 
herself ;  and  in  the  first  transports  of  her  rage,  having 
nothing  so  much  at  heart  as  to  give  the  lie  to  the  fic- 
tions of  the  poet :  "Ah !  as  for  this,  my  dear  Hobart," 
said  she,  "I  can  bear  it  no  longer.  I  do  not  pretend  to 

"You  are  formed  in  a  way  to  deserve  the  homage  of  every 
one  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  271 

be  so  handsome  as  some  others;  but  as  for  the  defects 
that  villain  charges  me  with,  I  daresay,  my  dear 
Hobart,  there  is  no  woman  more  free  from  them.  We 
are  alone,  and  I  am  almost  inclined  to  convince  you  by 
ocular  demonstration."  Miss  Hobart  was  too  com- 
plaisant to  oppose  this  motion;  but,  although  she 
soothed  her  mind  by  extolling  all  her  beauties,  in 
opposition  to  Lord  Rochester's  song,  Miss  Temple  was 
almost  driven  to  distraction  by  rage  and  astonishment, 
that  the  first  man  she  had  ever  attended  to,  should,  m 
his  conversation  with  her,  not  even  have  made  use  of 
a  single  word  of  truth,  but  that  he  should  likewise 
have  the  unparalleled  cruelty  falsely  to  accuse  her  of 
defects;  and  not  being  able  to  find  words  capable  of 
expressing  her  anger  and  resentment,  she  began  to 
weep  like  a  child.70 

Miss  Hobart  used  all  her  endeavours  to  comfort 
her,  and  chid  her  for  being  so  much  hurt  with  the 
invectives  of  a  person  whose  scandalous  impostures 
were  too  well  known  to  make  any  impression.  She, 
however,  advised  her  never  to  speak  to  him  any  more, 
for  that  was  the  only  method  to  disappoint  his  de- 
signs; that  contempt  and  silence  were,  on  such  occa- 
sions, much  preferable  to  any  explanation,  and  that  if 
he  could  once  obtain  a  hearing,  he  would  be  justified, 
but  she  would  be  ruined. 

Miss  Hobart  was  not  wrong  in  giving  her  this  coun- 
sel. She  knew  that  an  explanation  would  betray  her, 
and  that  there  would  be  no  quarter  for  her  if  Lord 
Rochester  had  so  fair  an  opportunity  of  renewing  his 
former  panegyrics  upon  her;  but  her  precaution  was 
in  vain.  This  conversation  had  been  heard  from  one 
end  to  the  other  by  the  governess's  niece,71  who  was 
blessed  with  a  most  faithful  memory;  and  having  that 

70  Like  one  distracted    (Vizetelly). 
"Sarah  Cooke.     See  note,  p.  284. 


272       THE  COURT  OF  CHARLES   II 

very  day  an  appointment  with  Lord  Rochester,  she 
conned  it  over  three  or  four  times,  that  she  might  not 
forget  one  single  word,  when  she  should  have  the 
honour  of  relating  it  to  her  lover.  We  shall  show  in 
the  next  chapter  what  were  the  consequences  resulting 
from  it 


CHAPTER    X 

THE  conversation  before  related  was  agreeable 
only  to  Miss  Hobart;  for  if  Miss  Temple  was 
entertained  with  its  commencement,  she  was  so 
much  the  more  irritated  by  its  conclusion.  This  in- 
dignation was  succeeded  by  the  curiosity  of  knowing 
the  reason  why,  if  Sidney1  had  a  real  esteem  for  her, 
she  should  not  be  allowed  to  pay  some  attention  to 
him.  The  tender-hearted  Hobart,  unable  to  refuse  her 
any  request,  promised  her  this  piece  of  confidence,  as 
soon  as  she  should  be  secure  of  her  conduct  towards 
Lord  Rochester.  For  this  she  only  desired  a  trial  of 
her  sincerity  for  three  days,  after  which,  she  assured 
her,  she  would  acquaint  her  with  everything  she 
wished  to  know.  Miss  Temple  protested  she  no  longer 
regarded  Lord  Rochester  but  as  a  monster  of  per- 
fidiousness,  and  vowed,  by  all  that  was  sacred,  that 
she  would  never  listen  to  him,  much  less  speak  to  him, 
as  long  as  she  lived. 

As  soon  as  they  retired  from  the  closet,  Miss  Sarah 
came  out  of  the  bath,  where,  during  all  this  conversa- 
tion, she  had  been  almost  perished  with  cold,  without 
daring  to  complain.  This  little  gipsy2  had,  it  seems, 
obtained  leave  of  Miss  Hobart's  woman8  to  bathe  her- 
self unknown  to  her  mistress ;  and  having,  I  know  not 
how,  found  means  to  fill  one  of  the  baths  with  cold 
water,  Miss*  Sarah  had  just  got  into  it,  when  they 
were  both  alarmed  with  the  arrival  of  the  other  two.  A 

1  Henry  ("the  handsome")  Sidney.         'Creature  (Vizetelly). 
'Maid  (ibid.).        4 Little  Sarah  (ibid.). 

273 


274       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

glass  partition  enclosed  the  room  where  the  baths 
were,  and  Indian*  silk  curtains,  which  drew  on  the 
inside,  screened  those  that  were  bathing.  Miss 
Hobart's  chamber-maid  had  only  just  time  to  draw 
these  curtains  that  the  girl  might  not  be  seen,  to  lock 
the  partition  door,  and  to  take  away  the  key,  before 
her  mistress  and  Miss  Temple  came  in. 

These  two  sat  down  on  a  couch  placed  along  the 
partition,  and  Miss  Sarah,  notwithstanding  her  alarms, 
had  distinctly  heard,  and  perfectly  retained  the  whole 
conversation.  As  the  little  girl  was  at  all  this  trouble 
to  make  herself  clean,  only  on  Lord  Rochester's  ac- 
count, as  soon  as  ever  she  could  make  her  escape  she 
regained  her  garret;  where  Rochester,  having  re- 
paired thither  at  the  appointed  hour,  was  fully  in- 
formed of  all  that  had  passed  in  the  bathing-room. 
He  was  astonished  at  the  audacious  temerity  of 
Hobart,  in  daring  to  put  such  a  trick  upon  him;  but, 
though  he  rightly  judged  that  love  and  jealousy  were 
the  real  motives,  he  would  not  excuse  her.  Little 
Sarah  desired  to  know  whether  he  had  a  real  affection 
for  Miss  Temple,  as  Miss  Hobart  said  she  supposed 
that  was  the  case.  "Can  you  doubt  it,"  replied  he, 
"since  that  oracle  of  sincerity  has  affirmed  it?  But 
then  you  know  that  I  am  not  now  capable  of  profiting 
by  my  perfidy,  were  I  even  to  gain  Miss  Temple's 
compliance,  since  my  debauches  and  the  street-walkers 
have  brought  me  to  order." 

This  answer  made  Miss  Sarah  very  easy,  for  she 
concluded  that  the  first  article  was  not  true,  since  she 
knew  from  experience  that  the  latter  was  false.  Lord 
Rochester  was  resolved  that  very  evening  to  attend 
the  Duchess's  Court,  to  see  what  reception  he  would 
meet  with  after  the  fine  portrait  Miss  Hobart  had  been 
so  kind  as  to  draw  of  him.  Miss  Temple  did  not  fail 
'China  (ibid.). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  275 

to  be  there  likewise,  with  the  intention  of  looking  on 
him  with  the  most  contemptuous  disdain  possible, 
though  she  had  taken  care  to  dress  herself  as  well  as 
she  could.  As  she  supposed  that  the  lampoon  Miss 
Hobart  had  sung  to  her  was  in  everybody's  possession, 
she  was  under  great  embarrassment  lest  all  those  whom 
she  met  should  think  her  such  a  monster  as  Lord 
Rochester  had  described  her.  In  the  meantime,  Miss 
Hobart,  who  had  not  much  confidence  in  her  promises 
never  more  to  speak  to  him,  narrowly  watched  her. 
Miss  Temple  never  in  her  life  appeared  so  handsome : 
every  person  complimented  her  upon  it;  but  she  re- 
ceived all  the  civilities  with  such  an  air,  that  every  one 
thought  she  was  mad ;  for  when  they  commended  her 
shape,  her  fresh  complexion,  and  the  brilliancy  of  her 
eyes :  "Pshaw,"  said  she,  "it  is  very  well  known  that 
I  am  but  a  monster,  and  formed  in  no  respect  like 
other  women :  all  is  not  gold  that  glisters ;  and  though 
I  may  receive  some  compliments  in  public,  it  signifies 
nothing."  All  Miss  Hobart's  endeavours  to  stop  her 
tongue  were  ineffectual ;  and  continuing  to  rail  at  her- 
self ironically,  the  whole  Court  was  puzzled  to  com- 
prehend her  meaning. 

When  Lord  Rochester  came  in,  she  first  blushed, 
then  turned  pale,  made  a  motion  to  go  towards  him, 
drew  back  again,  pulled  her  gloves  one  after  the  other 
up  to  the  elbow ;  and  after  having  three  times  violently 
flirted  her  fan,  she  waited  until  he  paid  his  compli- 
ments to  her  as  usual,  and  as  soon  as  he  began  to 
bow,  the  fair  one  immediately  turned  her  back  upon 
him.  Rochester  only  smiled,  and  being  resolved  that 
her  resentment  should  be  still  more  remarked,  he 
turned  round,  and  posting  himself  face  to  face : 
"Madam,"  said  he,  "nothing  can  be  so  glorious  as  to 
look  so  charming  as  you  do,  after  such  a  fatiguing 
day:  to  support  a  ride  of  three  long  hours,  and  Miss 


276       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

Hobart  afterwards,  without  being  tired,  shows  indeed 
a  very  strong-  constitution." 

Miss  Temple  had  naturally  a  tender  look,  but  she 
was  transported  with  such  a  violent  passion  at  his 
having  the  audacity  to  speak  to  her,  that  her  eyes 
appeared  like  two  fire-balls  when  she  turned  them 
upon  him.  Hobart  pinched  her  arm,  as  she  perceived 
that  this  look  was  likely  to  be  followed  by  a  torrent 
of  reproaches  and  invectives. 

Lord  Rochester  did  not  wait  for  them,  and  delaying 
until  another  opportunity  the  acknowledgments  he 
owed  Miss  Hobart,  he  quietly  retired.  The  latter,  who 
could  not  imagine  that  he  knew  anything  of  their 
conversation  at  the  bath,  was,  however,  much  alarmed 
at  what  he  had  said ;  but  Miss  Temple,  almost  choked 
with  the  reproaches  with  which  she  thought  herself 
able  to  confound  him  and  which  she  had  not  time 
to  give  vent  to,  vowed  to  ease  her  mind  of  them 
upon  the  first  opportunity,  notwithstanding  the  prom- 
ise she  had  made;  but  never  more  to  speak  to  him 
afterwards. 

Lord  Rochester  had  a  faithful  spy*  near  these 
nymphs:  this  was  Miss  Sarah,  who,  by  his  advice, 
and  with  her  aunt's  consent,  was  reconciled  with  Miss 
Hobart,  the  more  effectually  to  betray  her.  He  was 
informed  by  this  spy  that  Miss  Hobart's  maid,  being 
suspected  of  having  listened  to  them  in  the  closet, 
had  been  turned  away;  that  she  had  taken  another, 
whom  in  all  probability  she  would  not  keep  long, 
because,  in  the  first  place,  she  was  ugly,  and,  in  the 
second,  she  ate  the  sweetmeats  that  were  prepared 
for  Miss  Temple.  Although  this  intelligence  was  not 
very  material,  Sarah  was  nevertheless  praised  for  her 

'  Burnet  mentions  one  of  Rochester's  spy  systems,  a  footman 
disguised  as  a  sentinel  placed  so  as  to  keep  watch  upon  the 
nocturnal  assignations  of  the  Court  ladies  (Own  Time,  vol.  i. 
P-  372). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  277 

punctuality  and  attention ;  and  a  few  days  afterwards 
she  brought  him  news  of  real  importance. 

Rochester  was  by  her  informed  that  Miss  Hobart 
and  her  new  favourite  designed,  about  nine  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  to  walk  in  the  Mall,  in  the  Park;  that 
they  were  to  change  clothes  with  each  other,  to  put 
on  scarfs,  and  wear  black  masks ;  she  added  that  Miss 
Hobart  had  strongly  opposed  this  project,  but  that 
she  was  obliged  to  give  way  at  last,  Miss  Temple 
having  resolved  to  indulge  her  fancy. 

Upon  the  strength  of  this  intelligence,  Rochester 
concerted  his  measures.  He  went  to  Killegrew,  com- 
plained to  him  of  the  trick  which  Miss  Hobart  had 
played  him,  and  desired  his  assistance  in  order  to  be 
revenged.  This  was  readily  granted,  and  having  ac- 
quainted him  with  the  measures  he  intended  to  pursue, 
and  given  him  the  part  he  was  to  act  in  this  adventure, 
they  went  to  the  Mall. 

Presently  after  appeared  our  two  nymphs  in  mas- 
querade. Their  shapes  were  not  very  different,  and 
their  faces,  which  were  very  unlike  each  other,  were 
concealed  with  their  masks.  The  company  was  but 
thin  in  the  Park;  and  as  soon  as  Miss  Temple  per- 
ceived them  at  a  distance,  she  quickened  her  pace 
in  order  to  join  them,  with  the  design,  under  her  dis- 
guise, severely  to  reprimand  the  perfidious  Rochester ; 
when  Miss  Hobart  stopping  her,  said:  "Where  are 
you  running  to  ?  Have  you  a  mind  to  engage  in  con- 
versation with  these  two  devils,  to  be  exposed  to  all 
the  insolence  and  impertinence  for  which  they  are  so 
notorious?"  These  remonstrances  were  entirely  use- 
less. Miss  Temple  was  resolved  to  try  the  experi- 
ment; and  all  that  could  be  obtained  from  her  was, 
not  -to  answer  any  of  the  questions  Rochester  might 
ask  her. 

They  were  accosted  just  as  they  had  done  speaking. 


278       THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

Rochester  fixed  upon  Hobart,  pretending  to  take  her 
for  the  other,  at  which  she  was  overjoyed;  but  Miss 
Temple  was  extremely  sorry  she  fell  to  Killegrew's 
share,  with  whom  she  had  nothing  to  do.  He  perceived 
her  uneasiness,  and,  pretending  to  know  her  by  her 
clothes:  "Ah!  Miss  Hobart,"  said  he,  "be  so  kind 
as  to  look  this  way  if  you  please.  I  know  not  by  what 
chance  you  both  come  hither,  but  I  am  sure  it  is  very 
apropos  for  you,  since  I  have  something  to  say  to  you, 
as  your  friend  and  humble  servant." 

This  beginning  raising  her  curiosity,  Miss  Temple 
appeared  more  inclined  to  attend  to  him;  and  Kille- 
grew  perceiving  that  the  other  couple  had  insensibly 
proceeded  some  distance  from  them :  "In  the  name  of 
God,"  said  he,  "what  do  you  mean  by  railing  so 
against  Lord  Rochester,  whom  you  know  to  be  one  of 
the  most  honourable  men  at  Court,  and  whom  you 
nevertheless  described  as  the  greatest  villain  to  the 
person  whom  of  all  others  he  esteems  and  respects 
the  most?  What  do  you  think  would  become  of  you, 
if  he  knew  that  you  made  Miss  Temple  believe  she  is 
the  person  alluded  to  in  a  certain  song,  which  you 
know  as  well  as  myself  was  made  upon  the  clumsy 
Miss  Price,  above  a  year  before  the  fair  Temple  was 
heard  of?  Be  not  surprised  that  I  know  so  much 
of  the  matter;  but  pay  a  little  attention,  I  pray  you, 
to  what  I  am  now  going  to  tell  you  out  of  pure  friend- 
ship: your  passion  and  inclinations  for  Miss  Temple 
are  known  to  every  one  but  herself;  for  whatever 
methods  you  used  to  impose  upon  her  innocence,  the 
world  does  her  the  justice  to  believe  that  she  would 
treat  you  as  Lady  Falmouth  did,  if  the  poor  girl  knew 
the  wicked  designs  you  had  upon  her.  I  caution  you, 
therefore,  against  making  any  further  advances  to  a 
person  too  modest  to  listen  to  them.  I  advise  you 
likewise  to  take  back  your  maid  again,  in  order  to 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  279 

silence  her  scandalous  tongue ;  for  she  says  everywhere 
that  she  is  with  child,  that  you  are  the  occasion  of  her 
being  in  that  condition,  and  accuses  you  of  behaving 
towards  her  with  the  blackest  ingratitude,  upon  trifling 
suspicions  only.  You  know  very  well,  these  are  no 
stories  of  my  own  invention;  but  that  you  may  not 
entertain  any  manner  of  doubt  that  I  had  all  this 
from  her  own  mouth,  she  has  told  me  your  conversa- 
tion in  the  bathing-room,  the  characters  you  there 
drew  of  the  principal  men  at  Court,  your  artful  malice 
in  applying  so  improperly  a  scandalous  song  to  one 
of  the  loveliest  women  in  all  England;  and  in  what 
manner  the  innocent  girl  fell  into  the  snare  you  had 
laid  for  her,  in  order  to  do  justice  to  her  charms.  But 
that  which  might  be  of  the  most  fatal  consequences 
to  you  in  that  long  conversation  is  the  revealing  cer- 
tain secrets,  which,  in  all  probability,  the  Duchess  did 
not  entrust  you  with,  to  be  imparted  to  the  maids  of 
honour;  reflect  upon  this,  and  neglect  not  to  make 
some  reparation  to  Sir  Charles  Lyttelton  for  the  ridi- 
cule with  which  you  were  pleased  to  load  him.  I 
know  not  whether  he  had  his  information  from  your 
femme  de  chambre,  but  I  am  very  certain  that  he 
has  sworn  he  will  be  revenged,  and  he  is  a  man  that 
keeps  his  word;  for  after  all,  that  you  may  not  be 
deceived  by  his  look,  like  that  of  a  Stoic,  and  his 
gravity,  like  that  of  a  judge,  I  must  acquaint  you 
that  he  is  the  most  passionate  man  living.  Indeed, 
these  invectives  are  of  the  blackest  and  most  horrible 
nature.  He  says  it  is  most  infamous  that  a  wretch 
like  yourself  should  find  no  other  employment  than  to 
blacken  the  characters  of  gentlemen  to  gratify  your 
jealousy;  that  if  you  do  not  desist  from  such  conduct 
for  the  future,  he  will  immediately  complain  of  you; 
and  that  if  her  Royal  Highness  will  not  do  him  jus- 
tice, he  is  determined  to  do  himself  justite,  and  to 


280       THE  COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

run  you  through  the  body  with  his  own  sword,  though 
you  were  even  in  the  arms  of  Miss  Temple ;  and  that 
it  is  most  scandalous  that  all  the  maids  of  honour 
should  get  into  your  hands  before  they  can  look 
around  them. 

"These  things,  madam,  I  thought  it  my  duty  to 
acquaint  you  with.  You  are  better  able  to  judge  than 
myself,  whether  what  I  have  now  advanced  be  true, 
and  I  leave  it  to  your  own  discretion  to  make  what 
use  you  think  proper  of  my  advice ;  but  were  I  in  your 
situation,  I  would  endeavour  to  reconcile  Lord  Roch- 
ester and  Miss  Temple.  Once  more  I  recommend  to 
you  to  take  care  that  your  endeavours  to  mislead  her 
innocency,  in  order  to  blast  his  honour,  may  not  come 
to  his  knowledge;  and  do  not  estrange  from  her  a 
man  who  tenderly  loves  her,  and  whose  probity  is  so 
great,  that  he  would  not  even  suffer  his  eyes  to  wan- 
der towards  her,  if  his  intention  was  not  to  make  her 
his  wife." 

Miss  Temple  observed  her  promise  most  faithfully 
during  this  discourse.  She  did  not  even  utter  a  single 
syllable,  being  seized  with  such  astonishment  and  con- 
fusion, that  she  quite  lost  the  use  of  her  tongue. 

Miss  Hobart  and  Lord  Rochester  came  up  to  her 
white  she  was  still  in  amazement  at  the  wonderful 
discoveries  she  had  made ;  things  in  themselves,  in  her 
opinion,  almost  incredible,  but  to  the  truth  of  which 
she  could  not  refuse  her  assent,  upon  examining  the 
evidences  and  circumstances  on  which  they  were 
founded.  Never  was  confusion  equal  to  that  with 
which  her  whole  frame  was  seized  by  the  foregoing 
recital. 

Rochester  and  Killegrew  took  leave  of  them  before 
she  recovered  from  her  surprise;  but  as  soon  as  she 
had  regained  the  free  use  of  her  senses,  she  hastened 
back  to  St.  James's,  without  answering  a  single  ques- 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  281 

tion  that  the  other  put  to  her;  and  having  locked  her- 
self up  in  her  chamber,  the  first  thing  she  did  was 
immediately  to  strip  off  Miss  Hobart's  clothes,  lest  she 
should  be  contaminated  by  them;  for  after  what  she 
had  been  told  concerning  her,  she  looked  upon  her 
as  a  monster,  dreadful  to  the  innocence  of  the  fair  sex, 
of  whatever  sex  she  might  be.  She  blushed  at  the 
familiarities  she  had  been  drawn  into  with  a  creature, 
whose  maid  was  with  child,  though  she  never  had  been 
in  any  other  service  but  hers.  She  therefore  returned 
her  all  her  clothes,  ordered  her  servant  to  bring  back 
all  her  own,  and  resolved  never  more  to  have  any  con- 
nection with  her.  Miss  Hobart,  on  the  other  hand, 
who  supposed  Killegrew  had  mistaken  Miss  Temple 
for  herself,  could  not  comprehend  what  could  induce 
her  to  give  herself  such  surprising  airs  since  that  con- 
versation; but  being  desirous  to  come  to  an  explana- 
tion, she  ordered  Miss  Temple's  maid  to  remain  in  her 
apartments,  and  went  to  call  upon  Miss  Temple  her- 
self, instead  of  sending  back  her  clothes ;  and  being  de- 
sirous to  give  her  some  proof  of  friendship  before 
they  entered  upon  expostulation,  she  slipt  softly  into 
her  chamber,  when  she  was  in  the  very  act  of  chang- 
ing her  linen,  and  embraced  her.  But  Miss  Temple, 
disengaging  herself  with  the  highest  indignation  from 
her  arms,  began  to  shriek  and  cry  in  the  most  terrible 
manner,  calling  both  heaven  and  earth  to  her  assist- 
ance. 

The  first  whom  her  cries  raised  were  the  governess 
and  her  niece.  It  was  near  twelve  o'clock  at  night. 
Miss  Temple,  in  her  shift,  almost  frightened  to  death, 
was  pushing  back  with  horror  Miss  Hobart,  who  ap- 
proached her  with  no  other  intent  than  to  know  the 
occasion  of  those  transports.  As  soon  as  the  gov- 
erness saw  this  scene,  she  began  to  lecture  Miss  Hobart 
with  all  the  eloquence  of  a  real  duenna.  She  demanded 


282        THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

of  her,  whether  she  thought  it  was  for  her  that  her 
Royal  Highness  kept  the  maids  of  honour?  whether 
she  was  not  ashamed  to  come  at  such  an  unseasonable 
time  of  night  into  their  very  apartments  to  commit 
such  violences?  and  swore  that  she  would,  the  very 
next  day,  complain  to  the  Duchess.  All  this  confirmed 
Miss  Temple  in  her  mistaken  notions;  and  Hobart 
was  obliged  to  go  away  at  last,  without  being  able 
to  convince  or  bring  to  reason  creatures,  whom  she 
believed  to  be  either  distracted  or  mad.  The  next 
day  Miss  Sarah  did  not  fail  to  relate  this  adven- 
ture to  her  lover,  telling  him  how  Miss  Temple's 
cries  had  alarmed  the  maids  of  honour's  apartment, 
and  how  herself  and  her  aunt,  running  to  her  as- 
sistance, had  almost  surprised  Miss  Hobart  in  the 
very  act. 

Two  days  after,  the  whole  adventure,  with  the 
addition  of  several  embellishments,  was  made  public. 
The  governess  swore  to  the  truth  of  it,  and  related  in 
every  company  what  a  narrow  escape  Miss  Temple 
had  experienced,  and  that  Miss  Sarah,  her  niece,  had 
preserved  her  honour,  because,  by  Lord  Rochester's 
excellent  advice,  she  had  forbidden  her  all  manner  of 
connection  with  so  dangerous  a  person.  Miss  Temple 
was  aftenvards  informed,  that  the  song  that  had  so 
greatly  provoked  her  alluded  to  Miss  Price  only.  This 
was  confirmed  to  her  by  every  person,  with  additional 
execrations  against  Miss  Hobart  for  such  a  scandalous 
imposition.  Such  great  coldness  after  so  much  famil- 
iarity made  many  believe  that  this  adventure  was  not 
altogether  a  fiction. 

This  had  been  sufficient  to  have  disgraced  Miss 
Hobart  at  Court,  and  to  have  totally  ruined  her  reputa- 
tion in  London,  had  she  not  been,  upon  the  present, 
as  well  as  upon  a  former  occasion,  supported  by  the 
Duchess. 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  283 

Her  Royal  Highness  pretended  to  treat  the  whole 
story  as  romantic  and  visionary,  or  as  solely  aris- 
ing from  private  pique.  She  chid  Miss  Temple  for 
her  impertinent  credulity ;  turned  away  the  governess 
and  her  niece  for  the  lies  with  which  she  pretended 
they  supported  the  imposture ;  and  did  many  improper 
things  in  order  to  re-establish  Miss  Hobart's  honour, 
which,  however,  she  failed  in  accomplishing.  She  had 
her  reasons  for  not  entirely  abandoning  her,  as  will 
appear  in  the  sequel. 

Miss  Temple,  who  continually  reproached  herself 
with  injustice,  with  respect  to  Lord  Rochester,  and 
who,  upon  the  faith  of  Killegrew's  word,  thought  him 
the  most  honourable  man  in  England,  was  only  solicit- 
ous to  find  out  some  opportunity  of  easing  her  mind, 
by  making  him  some  reparation  for  the  rigour  with 
which  she  had  treated  him.  These  favourable  disposi- 
tions, in  the  hands  of  a  man  of  his  character,  might 
have  led  to  consequences  of  which  she  was  not  aware ; 
but  Heaven  did  not  allow  him  an  opportunity  of  prof- 
iting by  them. 

Ever  since  he  had  first  appeared  at  Court  he  seldom 
failed  being  banished  from  it,  at  least  once  in  the  year; 
for  whenever  a  word  presented  itself  to  his  pen,  or 
to  his  tongue,  he  immediately  committed  it  to  paper, 
or  produced  it  in  conversation,  without  any  manner 
of  regard  to  the  consequences.  The  ministers,  the 
mistresses,  and  even  the  King  himself,  were  frequently 
the  subjects  of  his  sarcasms ;  and  had  not  the  Prince, 
whom  he  thus  treated,  been  possessed  of  one  of  the 
most  forgiving  and  gentle  tempers,  his  first  disgrace 
had  certainly  been  his  last. 

Just  at  the  time  that  Miss  Temple  was  desirous  of 
seeing  him,  in  order  to  apologise  for  the  uneasiness 
which  the  infamous  calumnies  and  black  aspersions 
of  Miss  Hobart  had  occasioned  both  of  them,  he  was 


284       THE   COURT   OF  CHARLES   II 

forbid  the  Court  for  the  third  time.  He  departed 
without  having  seen  Miss  Temple,  carried  the  dis- 
graced governess  down  with  him  to  his  country  seat, 
and  exerted  all  his  endeavours  to  cultivate  in  her  niece 
some  dispositions  which  she  had  for  the  stage;  but 
though  she  did  not  make  the  same  improvement  in 
this  line  as  she  had  by  his  other  instructions,  after 
he  had  entertained  both  the  niece  and  the  aunt  for 
some  months  in  the  country,  he  got  her  entered  in 
the  King's  company  of  comedians  the  next  winter; 
and  the  public  was  obliged  to  him  for  the  prettiest, 
but,  at  the  same  time,  the  worst  actress  in  the 
kingdom/ 

About  this  time  Talbot  returned  from  Ireland.  He 
soon  felt  the  absence  of  Miss  Hamilton,  who  was  then 
in  the  country  with  a  relation,  whom  we  shall  men- 
tion hereafter.  A  remnant  of  his  former  tenderness 
still  subsisted  in  his  heart,  notwithstanding  his  ab- 
sence, and  the  promises  he  had  given  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont  at  parting.  He  now  therefore  endeavoured 
to  banish  her  entirely  from  his  thoughts,  by  fixing  his 
desires  upon  some  other  object;  but  he  saw  no  one  in 
the  Queen's  new  Court  whom  he  thought  worthy  of 

7  Sarah  Cooke,  an  actress  of  the  King's  House,  who  spoke  the 
prologue  on  the  first  night  of  Rochester's  Valentinian,  and  the 
new  prologue  on  the  second  night.  She  is  mentioned  in  the 
State  Poems  (1703,  p.  136)  by  Drvden  (Malone,  ii.  p.  24)  and 
Etherege  (Add.  MSS.  No.  11,513).  Prologues  and  epilogues 
were  her  particular  province.  The  Annotations  of  early  editions 
of  the  Memoirs  have  in  error  identified  "  Sarah  "  with  Elizabeth 
Barry,  who  did  not  appear  on  the  stage  until  1673,  whereas  the 
incidents  related  by  Gramont  do  not  go  beyond  September  1669. 
Barry  owed  her  introduction  to  the  stage  to  Rochester,  where  she 
made  her  first  appearance  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  before  which 
she  was  maid  to  Lady  Skelton.  The  Earl  bet  that  in  six  months 
he  would  make  her  the  most  popular  actress  on  the  stage.  Mary 
of  Modena  so  approved  her  acting  that  she  gave  her  her  wedding 
and  coronation  robes.  Rochester  is  said  to  have  had  a  child 
by  Barry,  on  whom  he  settled  an  annuity  of  £40  (vide  Diet,  of 
Nat.  Biography,  vol.  iii.  pp.  317-319). 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  285 

his  attention.  Miss  Boynton,*  however,  thought  him 
worthy  of  hers.  Her  person  was  slender  and  delicate, 
to  which  a  good  complexion  and  large  motionless  eyes 
gave  at  a  distance  an  appearance  of  beauty  that  van- 
ished upon  nearer  inspection.  She  affected  to  lisp,  to 
languish,  and  to  have  two  or  three  fainting-fits  a  day. 
The  first  time  that  Talbot  cast  his  eyes  upon  her  she 
was  seized  with  one  of  these  fits ;  he  was  told  that  she 
swooned  away  upon  his  account:  he  believed  it  and 
was  eager  to  afford  her  assistance ;  and  ever  after  that 
accident  showed  her  some  kindness,  more  with  the 
intention  of  saving  her  life,  than  to  express  any  affec- 
tion he  felt  for  her.  This  seeming  tenderness  was  well 
received,  and  at  first  she  was  visibly  affected  by  it. 
Talbot  was  one  of  the  tallest  men  in  England,  and  in 
all  appearance  one  of  the  most  robust ;  yet  she  showed 
sufficiently  that  she  was  willing  to  expose  the  delicacy 
of  her  constitution  to  whatever  might  happen,  in  order 
to  become  his  wife;  which  event  perhaps  might  then 
have  taken  place,  as  it  did  afterwards,  had  not  the 
charms  of  the  fair  Jennings  at  that  time  proved  an 
obstacle  to  her  wishes. 

I  know  not  how  it  came  to  pass  that  he  had  not  yet 
seen  her ;  though  he  had  heard  her  much  praised,  and 
her  prudence,  wit,  and  vivacity  equally  commended. 
He  believed  all  this  upon  the  faith  of  common  report. 
He  thought  it  very  singular  that  discretion  and 
sprightliness  should  be  so  intimately  united  in  a  per- 
son so  young,  more  particularly  in  the  midst  of  a 
Court  where  love  and  gallantry  were  so  much  in 

'Katharine,  eldest  daughter  and  co-heir  of  Colonel  Mathew 
Boynton  (killed  Wigan  fight,  1651),  son  of  Sir  Mathew  Boynton, 
Bart.,  of  Barnston,  Yorkshire,  Maid  of  Honour  to  Queen  Cather- 
ine (vide  Pepys,  26th  October  1664).  She  was  the  first  wife  of 
Colonel  Richard  Talbot,  Groom  of  the  Bedchamber  to  the  Duke 
of  York.  She  died  I7th  March  1678,  and  was  buried  in  Christ- 
church  Cathedral,  Dublin.  Her  only  daughter  was  buried  in  the 
same  grave  in  June  1684. 


286       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

fashion;  but  he  found  her  personal  accomplishments 
greatly  to  exceed  whatever  fame  had  reported  of  them. 

As  it  was  not  long  before  he  perceived  he  was  in 
love,  neither  was  it  long  before  he  made  a  declaration 
of  it.  As  his  passion  was  likely  enough  to  be  real, 
Miss  Jennings  thought  she  might  believe  him,  without 
exposing  herself  to  the  imputation  of  vanity.  Talbot 
was  possessed  of  a  fine  and  brilliant  exterior;  his 
manners  were  noble  and  majestic :  besides  this,  he  was 
particularly  distinguished  by  the  favour  and  friend- 
ship of  the  Duke;  but  his  most  essential  merit,  with 
her,  was  his  forty*  thousand  pounds  a-year,  landed 
property,  besides  his  employments.  All  these  qualities 
came  within  the  rules  and  maxims  she  had  resolved  to 
follow  with  respect  to  lovers.  Thus  though  he  had  not 
the  satisfaction  to  obtain  from  her  an  entire  declaration 
of  her  sentiments,  he  had  at  least  the  pleasure  of  being 
better  received  than  those  who  had  paid  their  addresses 
to  her  before  him. 

No  person  attempted  to  interrupt  his  happiness ;  and 
Miss  Jennings,  perceiving  that  the  Duchess  approved 
of  Talbot's  pretensions,  and  after  having  well  weighed 
the  matter,  and  consulted  her  own  inclinations,  found 
that  her  reason  was  more  favourable  to  him  than  her 
heart,  and  that  the  most  she  could  do  for  his  satisfac- 
tion was  to  marry  him  without  reluctance. 

Talbot,  too  fortunate  in  a  preference  which  no  man 
had  before  experienced,  did  not  examine  whether  it  was 
to  her  heart  or  to  her  head  that  he  was  indebted  for 
it,  and  his  thoughts  were  solely  occupied  in  hastening 
the  accomplishment  of  his  wishes.  One  would  have 
sworn  that  the  happy  minute  was  at  hand;  but  love 
would  no  longer  be  love,  if  he  did  not  delight  in  ob- 
structing, or  in  overturning  the  happiness  of  those 
who  live  under  his  dominion. 

'Couple  of  thousand   (Vizetelly's  translation). 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  287 

Talbot,  who  found  rfothing  reprehensible  either  in 
the  person,  in  the  conversation,  or  in  the  reputation  of 
Miss  Jennings,  was  however  rather  concerned  at  a  new 
acquaintance  she  had  lately  formed ;  and  having  taken 
upon  him  to  give  her  some  cautions  upon  this  subject, 
she  was  much  displeased  at  his  conduct. 

Miss  Price,  formerly  maid  of  honour,  that  had  been 
set  aside,  as  we  have  before  mentioned,  upon  her  leav- 
ing the  Duchess's  service,  had  recourse  to  Lady  Cas- 
tlemaine's  protection.  She  had  a  very  entertaining 
wit :  her  complaisance  was  adapted  to  all  humours,  and 
her  own  humour  was  possessed  of  a  fund  of  gaiety 
and  sprightliness  which  diffused  universal  mirth  and 
merriment  wherever  she  came.  Her  acquaintance  with 
Miss  Jennings  was  prior  to  Talbot's. 

As  she  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  all  the  in- 
trigues of  the  Court,  she  related  them  without  any 
manner  of  reserve  to  Miss  Jennings,  and  her  own  with 
the  same  frankness  as  the  others.  Miss  Jennings  was 
extremely  well  pleased  with  her  stories;  for  though 
she  was  determined  to  make  no  experiment  in  love, 
but  upon  honourable  terms,  she  however  was  desirous 
of  knowing  from  her  recitals  all  the  different  intrigues 
that  were  carrying  on.  Thus,  as  she  was  never 
wearied  with  her  conversation,  she  was  overjoyed 
whenever  she  could  see  her. 

Talbot,  who  remarked  the  extreme  relish  she  had 
for  Miss  Price's  company,  thought  that  the  reputation 
such  a  woman  had  in  the  world  might  prove  injurious 
to  his  mistress,  more  especially  from  the  particular 
intimacy  there  seemed  to  exist  between  them.  Where- 
upon, in  the  tone  of  a  guardian  rather  than  a  lover,  he 
took  upon  him  to  chide  her  for  the  disreputable  com- 
pany she  kept.  Miss  Jennings  was  haughty  beyond 
conception,  when  once  she  took  it  into  her  head ;  and 
as  she  liked  Miss  Price's  conversation  much  better 


288       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

than  Talbot's,  she  took  the  liberty  of  desiring  him  "to 
attend  to  his  own  affairs,  and  that  if  he  only  came 
from  Ireland  to  read  lectures  about  her  conduct,  he 
might  take  the  trouble  to  go  back  as  soon  as  he 
pleased."  He  was  offended  at  a  sally  which  he  thought 
ill-timed,  considering  the  situation  of  affairs  between 
them,  and  went  out  of  her  presence  more  abruptly 
than  became  the  respect  due  from  a  man  greatly  in 
love.  He  for  some  time  appeared  offended;  but  per- 
ceiving that  he  gained  nothing  by  such  conduct,  he 
grew  weary  of  acting  that  part,  and  assumed  that  of 
an  humble  lover,  in  which  he  was  equally  unsuccess- 
ful; neither  his  repentance  nor  submissions  could 
produce  any  effect  upon  her,  and  the  mutinous  little 
gipsy1'  was  still  in  her  pouts  when  Jermyn  returned 
to  Court. 

It  was  above  a  year  since  he  had  triumphed  over 
the  weakness  of  Lady  Castlemaine,  and  above  two 
since  the  King  had  been  weary  of  his  triumphs.  His 
uncle,  being  one  of  the  first  who  perceived  the  King's 
disgust,  obliged  him  to  absent  himself  from  Court,  at 
the  very  time  that  orders  were  going  to  be  issued  for 
that  purpose;  for  though  the  King's  affections  for 
Lady  Castlemaine  were  now  greatly  diminished,  yet 
he  did  not  think  it  consistent  with  his  dignity  that  a 
mistress,  whom  he  had  honoured  with  public  distinc- 
tion, and  who  still  received  a  considerable  support 
from  him,  should  appear  chained  to  the  car  of  the  most 
ridiculous  conqueror  that  ever  existed.  His  Majesty 
had  frequently  expostulated  with  the  Countess  upon 
this  subject;  but  his  expostulations  were  never  at- 
tended to.  It  was  in  one  of  these  differences  that,  he 
advising  her  rather  to  bestow  her  favours  upon  Jacob 
Hall,  the  rope-dancer,  who  was  able  to  return  them, 
than  lavish  away  her  money  upon  Jermyn  to  no  pur- 
w  Refractory  little  thing  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  289 

pose,  since  it  would  be  more  honourable  for  her  to 
pass  for  the  mistress  of  the  first,  than  for  the  very 
humble  servant  of  the  other,  she  was  not  proof  against 
his  raillery.  The  impetuosity  of  her  temper  broke 
forth  like  lightning;  she  told  him  "that  it  very  ill  be- 
came him  to  throw  out  such  reproaches  against  one, 
who,  of  all  the  women  in  England,  deserved  them  the 
least;  that  he  had  never  ceased  quarrelling  thus  un- 
justly with  her,  ever  since  he  had  betrayed  his  own 
mean,  low  inclinations ;  that  to  gratify  such  a  depraved 
taste  as  his,  he  wanted  only  such  silly  things  as 
Stewart,  Wells,  and  that  pitiful  strolling11  actress," 
whom  he  had  lately  introduced  into  their  society." 
Floods  of  tears,  from  rage,  generally  attended  these 
storms ;  after  which,  resuming  the  part  of  Medea,  the 
scene  closed  with  menaces  of  tearing  her  children  in 
pieces,  and  setting  his  palace  on  fire.  What  course 
could  he  pursue  with  such  an  outrageous  fury,  who, 
beautiful  as  she  was,  resembled  Medea  less  than  her 
dragons,  when  she  was  thus  enraged? 

The  indulgent  monarch  loved  peace;  and  as  he 
seldom  contended  for  it  on  these  occasions  without 
paying  something  to  obtain  it,  he  was  obliged  to  be  at 
great  expense,  in  order  to  reconcile  this  last  rapture. 
As  they  could  not  agree  of  themselves,  and  both 
parties  equally  complained,  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
was  chosen,  by  mutual  consent,  mediator  of  the  treaty. 
The  grievances  and  pretensions  on  each  side  were 
communicated  to  him,  and  what  is  very  extraordinary, 
he  managed  so  as  to  please  them  both.  Here  follow 
the  articles  of  peace,  which  they  agreed  to: 

"That  Lady  Castlemaine  should  for  ever  abandon 

Jermyn;  that  as  a  proof  of  her  sincerity,  and  the 

reality  of  his  disgrace,  she  should  consent  to  his  being 

sent,  for  some  time,  into  the  country;  that  she  should 

"  Beggarly  little  (Vizetelly).  u  Probably  Nell  Gwyn. 


290       THE    COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

not  rail  any  more  against  Miss  Wells,  nor  storm  any 
more  against  Miss  Stewart;  and  this  without  any  re- 
straint on  the  King's  behaviour  towards  her;  that  in 
consideration  of  these  condescensions,  his  Majesty 
should  immediately  give  her  the  title  of  duchess,1*  with 
all  the  honours  and  privileges  thereunto  belonging, 
and  an  addition  to  her  pension,  in  order  to  enable  her 
to  support  the  dignity." 

As  soon  as  this  peace  was  proclaimed,  the  political 
critics,  who,  in  all  nations,  never  fail  to  censure  all 
state  proceedings,  pretended  that  the  mediator  of  this 
treaty,  being  every  day  at  play  with  Lady  Castle- 
maine,  and  never  losing,  had  for  his  own  sake  insisted 
a  little  too  strongly  upon  this  last  article. 

Some  days  after  she  was  created  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land, and  little  Jermyn  repaired  to  his  country-seat. 
However,  it  was  in  his  power  to  have  returned  in  a 
fortnight ;  for  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  having  pro- 
cured the  King's  permission,  carried  it  to  the  Earl  of 
St.  Albans.  This  revived  the  good  old  man;  but  it 
was  to  little  purpose  he  transmitted  it  to  his  nephew; 
for  whether  he  wished  to  make  the  London  beauties 
deplore  and  lament  his  absence,  or  whether  he  wished 
them  to  declaim  against  the  injustice  of  the  age,  or 
rail  against  the  tyranny  of  the  Prince,  he  continued 
above  half  a  year  in  the  country,  setting  up  for  a  little 
philosopher,  under  the  eyes  of  the  sportsmen  in  the 
neighbourhood,  who  regarded  him  as  an  extraordi- 
nary instance  of  the  caprice  of  fortune.  He  thought 
the  part  he  acted  so  glorious,  that  he  would  have  con- 
tinued there  much  longer  had  he  not  heard  of  Miss 
Jennings.  He  did  not,  however,  pay  much  attention 
to  what  his  'friends  wrote  to  him  concerning  her 
charms,  being  persuaded  he  had  seen  equally  as  great 

"The  title  of  Duchess  of  Cleveland  was  conferred  on  her  3rd 
August  1670. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  291 

in  others :  what  was  related  to  him  of  her  pride  and 
resistance  appeared  to  him  of  far  greater  consequence ; 
and  to  subdue  the  last,  he  even  looked  upon  as  an 
action  worthy  of  his  prowess ;  and  quitting  his  retreat 
for  this  purpose,  he  arrived  in  London  at  the  time  that 
Talbot,  who  was  really  in  love,  had  quarrelled,  in  his 
opinion,  so  unjustly  with  Miss  Jennings. 

She  had  heard  Jermyn  spoken  of  as  a  hero  in  affairs 
of  love  and  gallantry.  Miss  Price,  in  the  recital  of 
those  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  had  often  men- 
tioned him,  without  in  any  respect  diminishing  the 
insignificancy  with  which  fame  insinuated  he  had  con- 
ducted himself  in  those  amorous  encounters.  She 
nevertheless  had  the  greatest  curiosity  to  see  a  man 
whose  entire  person,  she  thought,  must  be  a  moving 
trophy  and  monument  of  the  favours  and  freedoms 
of  the  fair  sex. 

Thus  Jermyn  arrived  at  the  right  time  to  satisfy 
her  curiosity  by  his  presence;  and  though  his  bril- 
liancy appeared  a  little  tarnished  by  his  residence  in 
the  country ;  though  his  head  was  larger,  and  his  legs 
more  slender  than  usual,  yet  the  giddy  girl"  thought 
she  had  never  seen  any  man  so  perfect ;  and  yielding 
to  her  destiny,  she  fell  in  love  with  him,  a  thousand 
times  more  unaccountably  than  all  the  others  had  done 
before  her.  Everybody  remarked  this  change  of  con- 
duct in  her  with  surprise;  for  they  expected  some- 
thing more  from  the  delicacy  of  a  person  who,  till 
this  time,  had  behaved  with  so  much  propriety  in  all 
her  actions. 

Jermyn  was  not  in  the  least  surprised  at  this  con- 
quest, though  not  a  little  proud  of  it;  for  his  heart 
had  very  soon  as  great  a  share  in  it  as  his  vanity. 
Talbot,  who  saw  with  amazement  the  rapidity  of  this 
triumph,  and  the  disgrace  of  his  own  defeat,  was  ready 

10-Memoirs  "Jennings  (Vizetelly). 


29*       THE   COURT  OF  CHARLES   II 

to  die  with  jealousy  and  spite ;  yet  he  thought  it  would 
be  more  to  his  credit  to  die  than  to  vent  those  passions 
unprofi tably ;  and  shielding  himself  under  a  feigned 
indifference,  he  kept  at  a  distance  to  view  how  far 
such  an  extravagant  prepossession  would  proceed. 

In  the  meantime  Jermyn  quietly  enjoyed  the  happi- 
ness of  seeing  the  inclinations  of  the  prettiest  and 
most  extraordinary  creature  in  England  declared  in 
his  favour.  The  Duchess,  who  had  taken  her  under 
her  protection  ever  since  she  had  declined  placing  her- 
self under  that  of  the  Duke,  sounded  Jermyn's  inten- 
tions towards  her,  and  was  satisfied  with  the  assurances 
she  received  from  a  man,  whose  probity  infinitely 
exceeded  his  merit  in  love.  He  therefore  let  all  the 
Court  see  that  he  was  willing  to  marry  her,  though, 
at  the  same  time,  he  did  not  appear  particularly  de- 
sirous of  hastening  the  consummation.  Every  person 
now  complimented  Miss  Jennings  upon  having  reduced 
to  this  situation  the  terror  of  husbands,  and  the  plague 
of  lovers:  the  Court  was  in  full  expectation  of  this 
miracle,  and  Miss  Jennings  of  a  near  approaching 
happy  settlement;  but  in  this  world  one  must  have 
fortune  in  one's  favour,  before  one  can  calculate  with 
certainty  upon  happiness. 

The  King  did  not  generally  let  Lord  Rochester 
remain  so  long  in  exile.  He  grew  weary  of  it,  and 
being  displeased  that  he  was  forgotten,  he  posted  up 
to  London  to  wait  till  it  might  be  his  Majesty's 
pleasure  to  recall  him. 

He  first  took  up  his  habitation  in  the  city,  among 
the  capital  tradesmen  and  rich  merchants,  where 
politeness  indeed  is  not  so  much  cultivated  as  at  Court ; 
but  where  pleasure,  luxury,  and  abundance  reign  with 
less  confusion,  and  more  sincerity.  His  first  design 
was  only  to  be  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  those 
fortunate  and  happy  inhabitants:  that  is  to  say,  by 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  293 

changing  his  name  and  dress,  to  gain  admittance  to 
their  feasts  and  entertainments;  and,  as  occasion 
offered,  to  those  of  their  loving  spouses.  As  he  was 
able  to  adapt  himself  to  all  capacities  and  humours,  he 
soon  deeply  insinuated  himself  into  the  esteem  of  the 
substantial  wealthy  aldermen,  and  into  the  affections 
of  their  more  delicate,  magnificent,  and  tender  ladies. 
He  made  one  in  all  their  feasts,  and  at  all  their  as- 
semblies; and,  whilst  in  the  company  of  their  hus- 
bands, he  declaimed  against  the  faults  and  mistakes 
of  government ;  he  joined  their  wives  in  railing  against 
the  profligacy  of  the  Court  ladies,  and  in  inveighing 
against  the  King's  mistresses.  He  agreed  with  them, 
that  the  industrious  poor  were  to  pay  for  these  cursed 
extravagances ;  that  the  city  beauties  were  not  inferior 
to  those  of  the  other  end  of  London,  and  yet  a  sober 
husband  in  this  quarter  of  the  town  was  satisfied  with 
one  wife ;  after  which,  to  out-do  their  murmurings,  he 
said  that  he  wondered  Whitehall  was  not  yet  con- 
sumed by  fire  from  Heaven,  since  such  rakes  as 
Rochester,  Killegrew,  and  Sidney  were  suffered  there, 
who  had  the  impudence  to  assert  that  all  married  men 
in  the  city  were  cuckolds,  and  all  their  wives  painted. 
This  conduct  endeared  him  so  much  to  the  cits,  and 
made  him  so  welcome  at  their  clubs,  that  at  last  he 
grew  sick  of  their  cramming  and  endless  invitations. 

But,  instead  of  approaching  nearer  the  Court,  he 
retreated  into  one  of  the  most  obscure  corners  of  the 
city,  where,  again  changing  both  his  name  and  his 
dress,  in  order  to  act  a  new  part,  he  caused  bills  to  be 
dispersed,  giving  notice  of  "The  recent  arrival  of  a 
famous  German  doctor,1*  who,  by  long  application  and 

"  Bishop  Burnet  confirms  this  account.  "  Being  under  an  un- 
lucky accident,  which  obliged  him  to  keep  out  of  the  way,  he 
disguised  himself  so  that  his  nearest  friends  could  not  have 
known  him,  and  set  up  in  Tower  Street  for  an  Italian  mounte- 


294       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

experience,  had  found  out  wonderful  secrets,  and 
infallible  remedies."  His  secrets  consisted  in  knowing 
what  was  past,  and  foretelling  what  was  to  come,  by 
the  assistance  of  astrology;  and  the  virtue  of  his 
remedies  principally  consisted  in  giving  present  relief 
to  unfortunate  young  women  in  all  manner  of  diseases, 
and  all  kinds  of  accidents  incident  to  the  fair  sex, 
either  from  too  unbounded  charity  to  their  neighbours, 
or  too  great  indulgence  to  themselves. 

His  first  practice,  being  confined  to  his  neighbour- 
hood, was  not  very  considerable;  but  his  reputation 
soon  extending  to  the  other  end  of  the  town,  there 
presently  flocked  to  him  the  women  attending  on  the 
Court;  next,  the  chamber-maids  of  ladies  of  quality, 
who,  upon  the  wonders  they  related  concerning  the 
German  doctor,  were  soon  followed  by  some  of  their 
mistresses.1' 

Among  all  the  compositions  of  a  ludicrous  and 
satirical  kind,  there  never  existed  any  that  could  be 
compared  to  those  of  Lord  Rochester,  either  for 
humour,  fire,  or  wit;  but,  of  all  his  works,  the  most 
ingenious  and  entertaining  is  that  which  contains  a 
detail  of  the  intrigues  and  adventures  in  which  he  was 
engaged  while  he  professed  medicine  and  astrology  in 
the  suburbs  of  London.17 

bank,  where  he  practised  physic  for  some  weeks,  not  without 
success.  In  his  latter  years  he  read  books  of  history  more.  He 
took  pleasure  to  disguise  himself  as  a  porter,  or  as  a  beggar ; 
sometimes  to  follow  some  mean  amours,  which  for  the  variety 
of  them,  he  affected.  At  other  times,  merely  for  diversion,  he 
would  go  about  in  odd  shapes,  in  which  he  acted  his  part  so 
naturally,  that  even  those  who  were  in  the  secret,  and  saw  him 
in  these  shapes,  could  perceive  nothing  by  which  he  might  be  dis- 
covered "  (Burnet's  Life  of  Rochester,  ed.  1774,  p.  14). 

Rochester's  speech,  when  he  practised  the  mountebank,  Alex- 
ander Bendo,  at  a  goldsmith's  house  in  Tower  Street,  "  next  door 
to  the  Black  Swan,"  is  given  in  detail  in  the  above  volume. 

"  This  was  probably  prior  to  26th  May  1665. 

"  Vide  footnote,  p.  210. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  295 

The  fair  Jennings  was  very  near  getting  a  place  in 
this  collection;  but  the  adventure  that  prevented  her 
from  it  did  not,  however,  conceal  from  the  public  her 
intention  of  paying  a  visit  to  the  German  doctor. 

The  first  chamber-maids  that  consulted  him  were 
only  those  of  the  maids  of  honour,  who  had  number- 
less questions  to  ask,  and  not  a  few  doubts  to  be  re- 
solved, both  upon  their  own  and  their  mistresses' 
accounts.  Notwithstanding  their  disguise,  he  recog- 
nised some  of  them,  particularly  Miss  Temple's  and 
Miss  Price's  maids,  and  the  one  whom  Miss  Hobart 
had  lately  discarded.  These  creatures  all  returned 
either  filled  with  wonder  and  amazement,  or  petrified 
with  terror  and  fear.  Miss  Temple's  chamber-maid 
deposed  that  he  assured  her  she  and  her  mistress 
would  have  the  smallpox,  within  two  months  at 
farthest,  if  her  aforesaid  mistress  did  not  guard 
against  a  man  in  woman's  clothes.  Miss  Price's 
woman  affirmed  that,  without  knowing  her,  and  only 
looking  in  her  hand,  he  told  her  at  first  sight  that, 
according  to  the  course  of  the  stars,  he  perceived  that 
she  was  in  the  service  of  some  good-natured  lady,  who 
had  no  other  fault  than  loving  wine  and  men.  In 
short,  every  one  of  them,  struck  with  some  particular 
circumstance  relating  to  their  own  private  affairs,  had 
either  alarmed  or  diverted  their  mistresses  with  the 
account,  not  failing,  according  to  custom,  to  em- 
bellish the  truth  in  order  to  enhance  the  wonder. 

Miss  Price,  relating  these  circumstances  one  day  to 
her  new  friend,  the  devil  immediately  tempted  her  to 
go  in  person,  and  see  what  sort  of  a  creature  this  new 
magician  was.  This  enterprise  was  certainly  very  rash ; 
but  nothing  was  too  rash  for  Miss  Jennings,  who  was 
of  opinion  that  a  woman  might  despise  appearances, 
provided  she  was  in  reality  virtuous.  Miss  Price  was 
all  compliance,  and  thus  having  fixed  upon  this  glori- 


296       THE  COURT  OF   CHARLES   II 

ous  resolution,  they  only  thought  of  the  proper  means 
of  putting  it  into  execution. 

It  was  very  difficult  for  Miss  Jennings  to  disguise 
herself,  on  account  of  her  excessive  fair  and  bright 
complexion,  and  of  something  particular  in  her  air  and 
manner:  however,  after  having  well  considered  the 
matter,  the  best  disguise  they  could  think  of  was  to 
dress  themselves  like  orange  girls.1*  This  was  no 
sooner  resolved  upon,  but  it  was  put  in  execution. 

"These  frolics  appear  to  have  been  not  unfrequent  with 
persons  of  high  rank  at  this  period.  In  a  letter  from  Mr.  Hen- 
shaw  to  Sir  Robert  Paston,  afterwards  Earl  of  Yarmouth,  dated 
I3th  October  1670,  we  have  the  following  account:  "Last  week, 
there  being  a  faire  neare  Audley-end,1  the  Queen,  the  Dutchess 
of  Richmond,  and  the  Dutchess  of  Buckingham,  had  a  frolick 
to  disguise  themselves  like  country  lasses,  in  red  petticoats, 
wastcotes,  etc.,  and  so  goe  see  the  faire.  Sir  Barnard  Gascoign, 
on  a  cart  jade,  rode  before  the  Queen;  another  stranger  before 
the  Dutchess  of  Buckingham;  and  Mr.  Roper  before  Richmond. 
They  had  all  so  overdone  it  in  their  disguise,  and  looked  so 
much  more  like  antiques  than  country  volk,  that,  as  soon  as  they 
came  to  the  faire,  the  people  began  to  goe  after  them;  but  the 
Queen  going  to  a  booth,  to  buy  a  pair  of  yellow  stockings  for 
her  sweet  hart,  and  Sir  Bernard  asking  for  a  pair  of  gloves  sticht 
with  blew,  for  his  sweet  hart,  they  were  soon,  by  their  gebrish, 
found  to  be  strangers,  which  drew  a  bigger  flock  about  them. 
One  amongst  them  had  seen  the  Queen  at  dinner,  knew  her,  and 
was  proud  of  her  knowledge.  This  soon  brought  all  the  faire 
into  a  crowd  to  stare  at  the  Queen.  Being  thus  discovered, 
they,  as  soon  as  they  could,  got  to  their  horses;  but  as  many  of 
the  faire  as  had  horses  got  up,  with  their  wives,  children,  sweet 
harts,  or  neighbours,  behind  them,  to  get  as  much  gape  as  they 
could,  till  they  brought  them  to  the  Court  gate.  Thus,  by  ill 
conduct,  was  a  merry  frolick  turned  into  a  penance"  (Ive's 
Select  Papers,  p.  39). 

Bishop  Burnet  says,  "At  this  time  (1668)  the  Court  fell  into 
much  extravagance  in  masquerading:  both  the  King  and  Queen, 
all  the  Court,  went  about  masked,  and  came  into  houses  unknown, 
and  danced  there,  with  a  great  deal  of  wild  frolic.  In  all  this 
people  were  so  disguised,  that,  without  being  in  the  secret,  none 
could  distinguish  them.  They  were  carried  about  in  hackney 
chairs.  Once  the  Queen's  chairmen,  not  knowing  who  she  was, 
went  from  her.  So  she  was  alone,  and  was  much  disturbed,  and 
came  to  Whitehall  in  a  hackney  coach;  some  say  in  a  cart" 
(Burnet's  Own  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  368). 

1  Newport.  Essex. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  297 

They  attired  themselves  alike,  and,  taking  each  a 
basket  of  oranges  under  their  arms,  they  embarked  in 
a  hackney  coach,  and  committed  themselves  to  fortune, 
without  any  other  escort  than  their  own  caprice  and 
indiscretion. 

The  Duchess  was  gone  to  the  play  with  her  sister. 
Miss  Jennings  had  excused  herself  under  pretence  of 
indisposition :  she  was  overjoyed  at  the  happy  com- 
mencement of  their  adventure;  for  they  had  disguised 
themselves,  had  crossed  the  Park,  and  taken  their 
hackney  coach  at  Whitehall  gate,  without  the  least 
accident.  They  mutually  congratulated  each  other 
upon  it,  and  Miss  Price,  taking  a  beginning  so  pros- 
perous as  a  good  omen  of  their  success,  asked  her  com- 
panion what  they  were  to  do  at  the  fortune-teller's, 
and  what  they  should  propose  to  him. 

Miss  Jennings  told  her  that,  for  her  part,  curiosity 
was  her  principal  inducement  for  going  thither;  that, 
however,  she  was  resolved  to  ask  him,  without  naming 
any  person,  why  a  man,  who  was  in  love  with  a  hand- 
some young  lady,  was  not  urgent  to  marry  her,  since 
this  was  in  his  power  to  do,  and  by  so  doing  he  would 
have  an  opportunity  of  gratifying  his  desires.  Miss 
Price  told  her,  smiling,  that,  without  going  to  the 
astrologer,  nothing  was  more  easy  than  to  explain  the 
enigma,  as  she  herself  had  almost  given  her  a  solution 
of  it  in  the  narrative  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland's 
adventures. 

Having  by  this  time  nearly  arrived  at  the  playhouse, 
Miss  Price,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  said,  that  since 
fortune  favoured  them,  a  fair  opportunity  was  now 
offered  to  signalise  their  courage,  which  was  to  go  and 
sell  oranges  in  the  very  playhouse,  in  the  sight  of  the 
Duchess  and  the  whole  Court.  The  proposal  being 
worthy  of  the  sentiments  of  the  one,  and  of  the  vivacity 
of  the  other,  they  immediately  alighted,  paid  off  their 


298       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    IT 

hack,  and,  running  through  the  midst  of  an  immense 
number  of  coaches,  with  great  difficulty  they  reached 
the  playhouse  door.  Sidney,  more  handsome  than  the 
beautiful  Adonis,  and  dressed  more  gay  than  usual, 
alighted  just  then  from  his  coach.  Miss  Price  went 
boldly  up  to  him,  as  he  was  adjusting  his  curls;  but  he 
was  too  much  occupied  with  his  own  dear  self  to  attend 
to  anything  else,  and  so  passed  on  without  deigning  to 
give  her  an  answer.  Killegrew  came  next,  and  the  fair 
Jennings,  partly  encouraged  by  the  other's  pertness, 
advanced  towards  him,  and  offered  him  her  basket, 
whilst  Price,  more  used  to  the  language,  desired  him 
to  buy  her  fine  oranges.  "Not  now,"  said  he,  looking 
at  them  with  attention;  "but  if  thou  wilt  to-morrow 
morning  bring  this  young  girl  to  my  lodgings,  I  will 
make  it  worth  all  the  oranges  in  London  to  thee;" 
and  while  he  thus  spoke  to  the  one  he  chucked  the 
other  under  the  chin.  These  familiarities  making 
little  Jennings  forget  the  part  she  was  acting,  after 
having  pushed  him  away  with  all  the  violence  she 
was  able,  she  told  him  with  indignation  that  it  was 

very  insolent  to  dare "Ha!  ha!"  said  he,  "here's 

a  rarity  indeed !  a  young  w ,  who,  the  better  to  sell 

her  goods,  sets  up  for  virtue,  and  pretends  innocence !" 

Price  immediately  perceived  that  nothing  could  be 
gained  by  continuing  any  longer  in  so  dangerous  a 
place;  and,  taking  her  companion  under  the  arm,  she 
dragged  her  away,  while  she  was  still  in  emotion1*  at 
the  insult  that  had  been  offered  to  her. 

Miss  Jennings,  resolving  to  sell  no  more  oranges  on 
these  terms,  was  tempted  to  return,  without  accom- 
plishing the  other  adventure;  but  Price  having  repre- 
sented to  her  the  disgrace  of  such  cowardly  behaviour, 
more  particularly  after  having  before  manifested  so 
much  resolution,  she  consented  to  go  and  pay  the  as- 
*•  Agitation  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  299 

trologer  a  short  visit,  so  as  they  might  be  enabled  to 
regain  the  palace  before  the  play  was  ended. 

They  had  one  of  the  doctor's  bills  for  a  direction, 
but  there  was  no  occasion  for  it ;  for  the  driver  of  the 
coach  they  had  taken  told  them  he  knew  very  well  the 
place  they  wanted,  for  he  had  already  carried  above  a 
hundred  persons  to  the  German  doctor's.  They  were 
within  half  a  street  of  his  house,  when  fortune  thought 
proper  to  play  them  a  trick. 

Brounker20  had  dined  by  chance  with  a  merchant  in 
that  part  of  the  city,  and  just  as  he  was  going  away 
they  ordered  their  coach  to  stop,  as  ill-luck  would  have 

10  Henry  Brpuncker,  son  of  William  Brouncker,  and  younger 
brother  of  William,  Viscount  Brouncker,  President  of  the  Royal 
Society,  Groom  of  the  Bedchamber  to  the  Duke  of  York  and 
Cofferer  (1671)  to  the  King.  Evelyn  says  he  was  ever  noted 
for  a  hard,  covetous,  vicious  man ;  for  his  craft  and  skill  at 
gaming  few  excelled  him.  Pepys  describes  him  as  one  of  the 
shrewdest  fellows  in  England  and  a  dangerous  man ;  he  further 
adds,  he  was  "  a  p'estilent  rogue  and  atheist  that  would  have  sold 
his  King  and  country  for  6d.  almost,  so  covetous  and  wicked  a 
rogue  he  is"  (29th  August  1667).  He  kept  in  the  Duke's  good 
graces  by  pandering  to  his  vices,  and,  according  to  Pepys,  it  was 
he  who  brought  about  the  intimacy  between  his  master  and  Lady 
Denham  (loth  June  1666). 

Clarendon  says  "  he  was  never  notorious  for  anything  but 
the  highest  degree  of  impudence  and  stooping  to  the  most  in- 
famous offices  " — "  his  abominable  nature  had  rendered  him  so 
odious  that  it  was  taken  notice  of  in  Parliament,"  and  he  was 
expelled  from  the  House  of  Commons  (see  Continuation  of 
Clarendon,  p.  270;  see  also  Lister's  Life  of  Clarendon,  ii.  334, 
335).  Pepys  speaks  of  his  impeachment  and  of  his  flight  in  con- 
sequence (2ist  April  1668),  but,  ere  six  months  had  elapsed,  he 
was  in  favour  again  at  Court  (see  4th  November  1668). 

Brouncker's  country  house,  mentioned  in  the  Memoirs,  was 
formerly  a  religious  house  of  some  note,  viz.  Sheen  Abbey, 
Richmond.  It  stood  in  the  Park  a  little  distance  north-west  of 
the  Palace,  and  close  to  the  site  of  the  present  observatory.  The 
Abbey  was  converted  into  a  private  residence  in  Evelyn's  time. 
On  27th  August  1678  the  diarist  "  din'd  at  Mr.  Hen.  Brouncker's 
at  the  Abbey  of  Sheene,  formerly  a  monastery  of  Carthusians, 
there  yet  remaining  one  of  their  solitary  cells  with  a  crosse. 
Within  this  ample  inclosure  are  several  pretty  villas  and  fine 
gardens  of  the  most  excellent  fruites."  In  course  of  time  this 


300       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

it,  just  opposite  to  him.  Two  orange  girls  in  a  hack- 
ney coach,  one  of  whom  appeared  to  have  a  very  pretty 
face,  immediately  drew  his  attention;  besides,  he  had 
a  natural  curiosity  for  such  objects. 

Of  all  the  men  at  Court,  he  had  the  least  regard  for 
the  fair  sex,  and  the  least  attention  to  their  reputation. 
He  was  not  young,  nor  was  his  person  agreeable ;  how- 
ever, with  a  great  deal  of  wit,  he  had  a  violent  passion 
for  women.  He  did  himself  justice  respecting  his  own 
merit ;  and,  being  persuaded  that  he  could  only  succeed 
with  those  who  were  desirous  of  having  his  money,  he 
was  at  open  war  with  all  the  rest.  He  had  a  little 
country-house  four  or  five  miles  from  London  always 
well  stocked  with  girls.21  In  other  respects  he  was  a 
very  honest  man,  and  the  best  chess-player  in  England. 

Price,  alarmed  at  being  thus  closely  examined  by 
the  most  dangerous  enemy  they  could  encounter, 
turned  her  head  the  other  way,  bid  her  companion  do 
the  same,  and  told  the  coachman  to  drive  on.  Broun- 
ker  followed  them  unperceived  on  foot;  and  the  coach 
having  stopped  twenty  or  thirty  yards  further  up  the 
street,  they  alighted.  He  was  just  behind  them,  and 
formed  the  same  judgment  of  them  which  a  man  much 
more  charitable  to  the  sex  must  unavoidably  have 
done,  concluding  that  Miss  Jennings  was  a  young 
courtesan  upon  the  look-out,  and  that  Miss  Price  was 
the  mother-abbess.  He  was,  however,  surprised  to 

grew  into  the  hamlet  of  West  Sheen,  of  which  there  are  now 
no  remains. 

Brouncker  (who  was  created  Doctor  of  Medicine  at  Oxford, 
23rd  June  1646)  married  Rebecca  Rodway,  the  widow  of 
Thomas  Jermyn,  the  brother  of  the  Earl  of  St.  Albans.  He  died 
at  his  residence,  Sheen  Abbey,  4th  January  1687-8  (having  suc- 
ceeded his  brother  in  1684  as  third  Viscount  Brouncker),  when 
the  title  became  extinct  (see  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biography,  vol.  vi. 
pp.  469-470). 

"  Brounker,  Love's  squire,  through  all  the  field  array'd, 
No  troop  was  better  clad,  nor  so  well  paid." 

Andrew  Marvell's  Poems,  vol.  ii.  p.  94. 


COUNT   DE  GRAMONT  301 

see  them  have  much  better  shoes  and  stockings  than 
women  of  that  rank  generally  wear,  and  that  the  little 
orange  girl,  in  getting  out  of  a  very  high  coach, 
showed  one  of  the  handsomest  legs  he  had  ever  seen : 
but  as  all  this  was  no  obstruction  to  his  designs,  he 
resolved  to  purchase  her  at  any  rate,  in  order  to  place 
her  in  his  seraglio.2* 

He  came  up  to  them,  as  they  were  giving  their 
baskets  in  guard  to  the  coachman,  with  orders  to  wait 
for  them  exactly  in  that  place.  Brounker  immediately 
pushed  in  between  them.  As  soon  as  they  saw  him, 
they  gave  themselves  up  for  lost;  but  he,  without 
taking  the  least  notice  of  their  surprise,  took  Price 
aside  with  one  hand,  and  his  purse  with  the  other, 
and  began  immediately  to  enter  upon  business,  but  was 
astonished  to  perceive  that  she  turned  away  her  face, 
without  either  answering  or  looking  at  him.  As  this 
conduct  appeared  to  him  unnatural,  he  stared  her  full 
in  the  face,  notwithstanding  all  her  endeavours  to 
prevent  him.  He  did  the  same  to  the  other ;  and  im- 
mediately recognised  them,  but  determined  to  conceal 
his  discovery. 

The  old  fox  possessed  a  wonderful  command  of 
temper  on  such  occasions,  and  having  teased  them  a 
little  longer  to  remove  all  suspicions,  he  quitted  them. 
Upon  this  he  went  back  to  his  coach,  whilst  they 
blessed  themselves,  returning  Heaven  their  most 
hearty  thanks  for  having  escaped  this  danger  without 
being  discovered. 

"The  date  of  this  adventure,  according  to  Pepys,  who  heard 
of  it  from  Lady  Sandwich,  may  be  fixed  at  February  1664-5. 
"  My  Lady  [Sandwich]  tells  me  .  .  .  what  mad  freaks  the  Maids 
of  Honour  at  Court  have:  that  Mrs.  Jenings,  one  of  the 
Duchess's  mayds,  the  other  day  dressed  herself  like  an  orange 
wench,  and  went  up  and  down  and  cried  oranges,  till  falling 
down,  or  by  such  accident  .  .  .  her  fine  shoes  were  discerned 
and  she  put  to  a  great  deale  of  shame  "  (Diary,  2ist  February 
1664-5. 


302       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

Brounker,  on  the  other  hand,  would  not  have  taken 
a  thousand  guineas  for  this  rencounter :  he  blessed  the 
Lord  that  he  had  not  alarmed  them  to  such  a  degree 
as  to  frustrate  their  intention;  for  he  made  no  doubt 
but  Miss  Price  had  managed  some  intrigue  for  Miss 
Jennings.  He  therefore  immediately  concluded,  that 
at  present  it  would  be  improper  to  make  known  his 
discovery,  which  would  have  answered  no  other  end 
but  to  have  overwhelmed  them  with  confusion. 

Upon  this  account,  although  Jermyn  was  one  of  his 
best  friends,  he  felt  a  secret  joy  in  not  having  pre- 
vented his  being  made  a  cuckold  before  his  marriage; 
and  the  apprehension  he  was  in  of  preserving  him  from 
that  accident  was  his  sole  reason  for  quitting  them 
with  the  precautions  before  mentioned. 

Whilst  they  were  under  these  alarms,  their  coach- 
man was  engaged  in  a  squabble  with  some  blackguard 
boys,  who  had  gathered  round  his  coach  in  order  to 
steal  the  oranges.  From  words  they  came  to  blows. 
The  two  nymphs  saw  the  commencement  of  the  fray 
as  they  were  returning  to  the  coach,  after  having 
abandoned  the  design  of  going  to  the  fortune-teller's. 
Their  coachman  being  a  man  of  spirit,  it  was  with 
great  difficulty  they  could  persuade  him  to  leave  their 
oranges  to  the  mob,  that  they  might  get  off  without 
any  further  disturbance.  Having  thus  regained  their 
hack,  after  a  thousand  frights,  and  after  having  re- 
ceived an  abundant  share  of  the  most  low  and  infamous 
abuse  applied  to  them  during  the  fracas,  they  at  length 
reached  St.  James's,  vowing  never  more  to  go  after 
fortune-tellers,  through  so  many  dangers,  terrors,  and 
alarms,  as  they  had  lately  undergone. 

Brounker,  who,  from  the  indifferent  opinion  he 
entertained  of  the  fair  sex,  would  have  staked  his  life 
that  Miss  Jennings  did  not  return  from  this  expedition 
in  the  same  condition  she  went,  kept  his  thoughts,  how- 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  303 

ever,  a  profound  secret ;  since  it  would  have  afforded 
him  the  highest  satisfaction  to  have  seen  the  all- 
fortunate  Jermyn  marry  a  little  street-walker,  who 
pretended  to  pass  for  a  pattern  of  chastity,  that  he 
might,  the  day  after  his  marriage,  congratulate  him 
upon  his  virtuous  spouse ;  but  Heaven  was  not  disposed 
to  afford  him  that  satisfaction,  as  will  appear  in  the 
sequel  of  these  Memoirs. 

Miss  Hamilton  was  in  the  country,  as  we  before 
mentioned,  at  a  relation's.  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
bore  this  short  absence  of  hers  with  great  uneasiness, 
since  she  would  not  allow  him  permission  to  visit  her 
there,  upon  any  pretence  whatever;  but  play,  which 
was  favourable  to  him,  was  no  small  relief  to  his 
extreme  impatience. 

Miss  Hamilton,  however,  at  last  returned.  Mrs. 
Wetenhall23  (for  that  was  the  name  of  her  relation) 
would  by  all  means  wait  upon  her  to  London,  in 
appearance  out  of  politeness;  for  ceremony,  carried 
beyond  all  bearing,  is  the  grand  characteristic  of  coun- 
try gentry :  yet  this  mark  of  civility  was  only  a  pre- 
tence, to  obtain  a  peevish  husband's  consent  to  his 
wife's  journey  to  town.  Perhaps  he  would  have  done 
himself  the  honour  of  conducting  Miss  Hamilton  up 
to  London,  had  he  not  been  employed  in  writing  some 
remarks  upon  the  ecclesiastical  history,  a  work  in 
which  he  had  long  been  engaged.  The  ladies  were 
more  civil  than  to  interrupt  him  in  his  undertakings, 
and  besides,  it  would  entirely  have  disconcerted  all 
Mrs.  Wetenhall's  schemes. 

"Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Bedingfield  (06.  1684), 
and  wife  of  Thomas  Whetenhall,  of  Hextall  Court,  near  East 
Peckham,  Kent  (see  Collins's  Baronetage,  p.  216).  The  family 
of  Whetenhall,  or  Whetnall,  was  possessed  of  this  estate  from 
Henry  VIII.'s  reign.  Henry  Whetenhall,  Esq.,  alienated  it  to 
John  Fane,  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  and  it  afterwards  was  pur- 
chased by  Sir  William  Twisden. 


304       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

This  lady  was  what  may  be  properly  called  a  beauty, 
entirely  English,  made  up  of  lilies  and  roses,  of  snow 
and  milk,  as  to  colour ;  and  of  wax,  with  respect  to  the 
arms,  hands,  neck,  and  feet ;  but  all  this  without  either 
animation  or  air.  Her  face  was  uncommonly  pretty; 
but  there  was  no  variety,  no  change  of  countenance  in 
it :  one  would  have  thought  she  took  it  in  the  morning 
out  of  a  case,  in  order  to  put  it  up  again  at  night, 
without  using  it  in  the  smallest  degree  in  the  daytime. 
What  can  I  say  of  her !  nature  had  formed  her  a  baby1* 
from  her  infancy,  and  a  baby*  remained  till  death  the 
fair  Mrs.  Wetenhall.  Her  husband  had  been  destined 
for  the  Church ;  but  his  elder  brother  dying  just  at  the 
time  he  had  gone  through  his  studies  of  divinity,  in- 
stead of  taking  orders,  he  came  to  England,  and  took 
to  wife  Miss  Bedingfield,  the  lady  of  whom  we  are 
now  speaking. 

His  person  was  not  disagreeable,  but  he  had  a  seri- 
ous contemplative  air,  very  apt  to  occasion  disgust :  as 
for  the  rest,  she  might  boast  of  having  for  her  husband 
one  of  the  greatest  theologists  in  the  kingdom.  He 
was  all  day  poring  over  his  books,  and  went  to  bed 
so6n,  in  order  to  rise  early;  so  that  his  wife  found  him 
snoring  when  she  came  to  bed,  and  when  he  arose  he 
left  her  there  sound  asleep.  His  conversation  at  table 
would  have  been  very  brisk,  if  Mrs.  Wetenhall  had 
been  as  great  a  proficient  in  divinity,  or  as  great  a  lover 
of  controversy,  as  he  was;  but  being  neither  learned 
in  the  former,  nor  desirous  of  the  latter,  silence 
reigned  at  their  table,  as  absolutely  as  at  a  refectory. 

She  had  often  expressed  a  great  desire  to  see  Lon- 
don; but  though  they  were  only  distant  a  very  short 
day's  journey  from  it,  she  had  never  been  able  to  sat- 
isfy her  curiosity.  It  was  not  therefore  without  reason 
that  she  grew  weary  of  the  life  she  was  forced  to  lead 
-Doll  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  305 

at  Peckham.98  The  melancholy  retired  situation  of  the 
place  was  to  her  insupportable;  and  as  she  had  the 
folly,  incident  to  many  other  women,  of  believing  ster- 
ility to  be  a  kind  of  reproach,  she  was  very  much  hurt 
to  see  that  she  might  fall  under  that  suspicion;  for 
she  was  persuaded,  that  although  Heaven  had  denied 
her  children,  she  nevertheless  had  all  the  necessary 
requisites  on  her  part,  if  it  had  been  the  will  of 
the  Lord. 

This  had  occasioned  her  to  make  some  reflections,  and 
then  to  reason  upon  those  reflections ;  as  for  instance, 
that  since  her  husband  chose  rather  to  devote  himself 
to  his  studies  than  to  the  duties  of  matrimony,  to  turn 
over  musty  old  books,  rather  than  attend  to  the  attrac- 
tions of  beauty,  and  to  gratify  his  own  pleasures, 
rather  than  those  of  his  wife,  it  might  be  permitted 
her  to  relieve  some  necessitous  lover,  in  neighbourly 
charity,  provided  she  could  do  it  conscientiously,  and 
to  direct  her  inclinations  in  so  just  a  manner,  that  the 
evil  spirit  should  have  no  concern  in  it.  Mr.  Weten- 
hall,  a  zealous  partisan  for  the  doctrine  of  the  casuists, 
would  not  perhaps  have  approved  of  these  decisions; 
but  he  was  not  consulted. 

The  greatest  misfortune  was,  that  neither  solitary 
Peckham,  nor  its  sterile  neighbourhood,  presented  any 
expedients,  either  for  the  execution  of  the  before-men- 
tioned design,  or  for  the  relief  of  poor  Mrs.  Weten- 
hall.  She  was  visibly  pining  away,  when,  through 
fear  of  dying  either  with  solitude  or  of  want,  she  had 
recourse  to  Miss  Hamilton's  commiseration. 

28  East  Peckham  lies  about  midway  between  Tonbridge  and 
Maidstone,  and  the  village  is  still  very  primitive.  The  church 
is  perched  upon  high  ground  away  from  everywhere,  and  the 
roads  leading  from  East  and  West  Peckham  are  circuitous  in 
the  extreme.  Hextall,  which  was  occupied  for  many  years  as 
a  farmhouse,  has  been  rebuilt,  but  the  stables  and  some  old  walls 
remain. 


306       THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

Their  first  acquaintance  was  formed  at  Paris, 
whither  Mr.  Wetenhall  had  taken  his  wife  half  a  year 
after  they  were  married,  on  a  journey  thither  to  buy 
books.  Miss  Hamilton,  who  from  that  very  time 
greatly  pitied  her,  consented  to  pass  some  time  in  the 
country  with  her,  in  hopes  by  that  visit  to  deliver  her, 
for  a  short  time  at  least,  out  of  her  captivity,  which 
project  succeeded  according  to  her  wish. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  being  informed  of  the 
day  on  which  they  were  to  arrive,  borne  on  the  wings 
of  love  and  impatience,  had  engaged  George  Hamilton" 
to  go  with  him,  and  meet  them  some  miles  out  of 
London. 

The  equipage  he  had  prepared  for  the  purpose 
corresponded  with  his  usual  magnificence;  and  on 
such  an  occasion,  we  may  reasonably  suppose  he  had 
not  neglected  his  person.  However,  with  all  his  im- 
patience, he  checked  the  ardour  of  the  coachman, 
through  fear  of  accidents,  rightly  judging  that  upon 
a  road  prudence  is  preferable  to  eagerness.  The  ladies 
at  length  appeared,  and  Miss  Hamilton,  being  in  his 
eyes  ten  or  twelve  times  more  handsome  than  before 
her  departure  from  London,  he  would  have  purchased 
with  his  life  so  kind  a  reception  as  she  gave  her 
brother. 

Mrs.  Wetenhall  had  her  share  of  the  praises,  which 
at  this  interview  were  liberally  bestowed  upon  her 
beauty,  for  which  her  beauty  was  very  thankful  to 
those  who  did  it  so  much  honour;  and  as  Hamilton 
regarded  her  with  a  tender  attention,  she  regarded 
Hamilton  as  a  man  very  well  qualified  for  putting  in 
execution  the  little  projects  she  had  concerted  with  her 
conscience. 

As  soon  as  she  was  in  London,  her  head  was  almost 
turned,  through  an  excess  of  contentment  and  felicity : 
27  George,  second  son  of  Sir  George  Hamilton. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  307 

everything  appeared  like  enchantment  to  her  in  this 
superb  city;  more  particularly,  as  in  Paris  she  had 
never  seen  anything  farther  than  the  Rue  Saint 
Jacques,  and  a  few  booksellers'  shops.  Miss  Hamilton 
entertained  her  at  her  own  house,  and  she  was  pre- 
sented, admired,  and  well  received  at  both  Courts. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  whose  gallantry  and 
magnificence  were  inexhaustible,  taking  occasion,  from 
this  fair  stranger's  arrival,  to  exhibit  his  grandeur, 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  balls,  concerts,  plays,  ex- 
cursions by  land  and  by  water,  splendid  collations  and 
sumptuous  entertainments.  Mrs.  Wetenhall  was  trans- 
ported \vith  pleasures,  of  which  the  greatest  part  were 
entirely  new  to  her;  she  was  greatly  delighted  with 
all,  except  now  and  then  at  a  play,  when  tragedy  was 
acted,  which  she  confessed  she  thought  rather  weari- 
some :  she  agreed,  however,  that  the  show  was  very 
interesting,  when  there  were  many  people  killed  upon 
the  stage,  but  thought  the  players  were  very  fine 
handsome  fellows,  who  were  much  better  alive  than 
dead. 

Hamilton,  upon  the  whole,  was  pretty  well  treated 
by  her,  if  a  man  in  love,  who  is  never  satisfied  until 
the  completion  of  his  wishes,  could  confine  himself 
within  the  bounds  of  moderation  and  reason.  He  used 
all  his  endeavours  to  determine  iier  to  put  in  execution 
the  projects  she  had  formed  at  Peckham.  Mrs.  Weten- 
hall, on  the  other  hand,  was  much  pleased  with  him. 
This  is  the  Hamilton  who  served  in  the  French  army 
with  distinction;28  he  was  both  agreeable  and  hand- 

28  Viz.  George  Hamilton,  who  married  Miss  Jennings.  At  the 
Restoration  Charles  brought  over  with  him  a  number  of  Catholic 
officers  and  soldiers  who  had  served  with  him  abroad  and  in- 
corporated them  among  his  guards.  Parliament,  however,  in- 
sisted upon  their  dismissal,  and  it  was  these  men,  with  others 
enlisted  in  Ireland,  who  accompanied  Hamilton  to  France,  and 
whom  Louis  XIV.  formed  into  a  company  of  English  gendarmes. 
The  Spanish  Ambassador  complained  to  Arlington  at  the  time 


308       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

some.  All  imaginable  opportunities  conspired  to 
favour  the  establishment  of  an  intimacy,  whose  com- 
mencement had  been  so  brisk,  that  in  all  probability  it 
would  not  languish  for  a  conclusion;  but  the  more  he 
pressed  her  to  it,  the  more  her  resolution  began  to  fail, 
and  a  regard  for  some  scruples,  which  she  had  not  well 
weighed,  kept  her  in  suspense.  There  was  reason  to 
believe  that  a  little  perseverance  would  have  removed 
these  obstacles;  yet  this  at  the  present  time  was  not 
attempted.  Hamilton,  not  able  to  conceive  what  could 
prevent  her  from  completing  his  happiness,  since  in  his 
opinion  the  first  and  greatest  difficulties  of  an  amour 
were  already  overcome  with  respect  to  the  public,  re- 
solved to  abandon  her  to  her  irresolutions,  instead  of 
endeavouring  to  conquer  them  by  a  more  vigorous  at- 
tack. It  was  not  consistent  with  reason  to  desist  from 
an  enterprise,  where  so  many  prospects  of  success 
presented  themselves,  for  such  inconsiderable  ob- 
stacles; but  he  suffered  himself  to  be  intoxicated 
with  chimeras  and  visions,  which  unseasonably  cooled 
the  vigour  of  his  pursuit,  and  led  him  astray  in  another 
unprofitable  undertaking. 

I  know  not  whether  poor  Mrs.  Wetenhall  took  the 
blame  upon  herself;  but  it  is  certain,  she  was  ex- 
tremely mortified.  Soon  after  being  obliged  to  return 
to  her  cabbages  and  turkeys  at  Peckham,  she  went 
nearly  distracted.  That  residence  appeared  a  thousand 

with  reference  to  these  Irish  levies.  Arlington,  writing  to  Lord 
Sandwich,  October  1667,  gives  the  reason  of  Hamilton's  entering 
the  French  service  as  follows: — 

"Concerning  the  reformadoes  of  the  guards  of  horse,  his 
Majesty  thought  fit  the  other  day  to  have  them  dismissed  ac- 
cording to  his  promise  made  to  Parliament  at  the  last  session. 
Mr.  Hamilton  had  a  secret  overture  made  him,  that  he  with  those 
men  should  be  welcome  into  the  French  service;  his  Majesty 
at  their  dismission  having  declared  they  should  have  leave  to  go 
abroad  whither  they  pleased.  They  accepted  of  Mr.  Hamilton's 
offer  to  carry  them  into  France"  (see  Arlington's  Letters,  vol.  i. 
p.  185,  and  Vizetelly's  edition,  ii.  p.  149,  note). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  309 

times  more  dreadful  to  her,  since  she  had  been  initiated 
into  the  amusements  of  London;  but  as  the  Queen 
was  to  set  out  within  a  month  for  Tunbridge  Wells, 
she  was  obliged  to  yield  to  necessity,  and  return  to 
the  philosopher,  Wetenhall,  with  the  consolation  of 
having  engaged  Miss  Hamilton  to  come  and  live  at  her 
house,  which  was  within  ten  or  twelve  miles  of  Tun- 
bridge,  as  long  as  the  Court  remained  there. 

Miss  Hamilton  promised  not  to  abandon  her  in  her 
retirement,  and  further  engaged  to  bring  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont  along  with  her,  whose  humour  and  con- 
versation extremely  delighted  her.  The  Chevalier  de 
Gramont,  who  on  all  occasions  started  agreeable  rail- 
lery, engaged  on  his  part  to  bring  George  Hamilton, 
which  words  overwhelmed  her  with  blushes. 

The  Court  set  out  soon  after  to  pass  about  two 
months  in  the  place  of  all  Europe  the  most  rural  and 
simple,  and  yet,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  entertaining 
and  agreeable.* 

Tunbridge  is  the  same  distance  from  London  that 
Fontainebleau  is  from  Paris,  and  is,  at  the  season,  the 
general  rendezvous  of  all  the  gay  and  handsome  of 
both  sexes.  The  company,  though  always  numerous, 

29  The  French  Ambassador.  Comminges,  writes  (July  1663)  : 
"The  Queen  with  her  numerous  Court  is  still  at  Tunbridge, 
where  the  waters  have  done  nothing  of  what  was  expected. 
Well  may  they  be  called  les  eaux _  de  scandale,  for  they  nearly 
ruined  the  good  name  of  the  maids  and  of  the  ladies  (those, 
I  mean  who  were  there  without  their  husbands).  It  took  them 
a  whole  month,  and  for  some  more  than  that,  to  clear  themselves 
and  save  their  honour ;  and  it  is  even  reported  that  a  few  of  them 
are  not  quite  out  of  trouble  yet.  For  which  cause  the  Court 
will  come  back  in  a  week;  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  Queen 
stays  behind  and  will  pay  for  the  others.  A  few  days  will  be 
spent  here  to  gather  strength,  and  then  a  new  journey  will  be  un- 
dertaken towards  the  Baths,  eight  miles  distant  from  here.  Nothing 
will  be  left  unattempted  to  give  an  heir  to  the  British  Crown  (Au- 
gust 1663).  The  Queen  after  all  this  physic  feeling  very  sick,  her 
doctors  go  about  whispering  the  great  news,  but  to  their  shame 
it  turns  out  that  the  symptoms  are  only  due  to  the  quality  of 


3io       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

is  always  select:  since  those  who  repair  thither  foi 
diversion,  ever  exceed  the  number  of  those  who  go 
thither  for  health.  Everything-  there  breathes  mirth 
and  pleasures:  constraint  is  banished,  familiarity  is 
established  upon  the  first  acquaintance,  and  joy  and 
pleasure  are  the  sole  sovereigns  of  the  place. 

The  company  are  accommodated  with  lodgings  in 
little,  clean,  and  convenient  habitations,  that  lie  strag- 
gling and  separated  from  each  other,  a  mile  and  a 
half  all  round  the  Wells,  where  the  company  meet  in 
the  morning.  This  place  consists  of  a  long  walk, 
shaded  by  spreading  trees,  under  which  they  prom- 
enade while  they  are  drinking  the  waters.  On  one  side 
of  this  walk  is  a  long  row  of  shops,  plentifully  stocked 
with  all  manner  of  toys,  lace,  gloves,  stockings,  and 
where  there  is  raffling,  as  at  Paris,  in  the  Foire  de 
Saint  Germain;  on  the  other  side  of  the  walk  is  the 
market ;  and,  as  it  is  the  custom  here  for  every  person 
to  buy  their  own  provisions,  care  is  taken  that  nothing 
offensive  appears  on  the  stalls.  Here  young,  fair, 
fresh-coloured  country  girls,  with  clean  linen,  small 
straw  hats,  and  neat  shoes  and  stockings,  sell  game, 
vegetables,  flowers,  and  fruit:  here  one  may  live  as 
one  pleases :  here  is,  likewise,  deep  play,  and  no  want 
of  amorous  intrigues.  As  soon  as  the  evening  comes, 
every  one  quits  his  little  palace  to  assemble  at  the 
bowling-green,  where,  in  the  open  air,  those  who 
choose,  dance  upon  a  turf  more  soft  and  smooth  than 
the  finest  carpet  in  the  world. 

Lord  Muskerry1*  had,   within  two  or  three   short 

the  waters  that  are  vitriolees"  (see  Jusserand's  French  Ambas- 
sador at  the  Court  of  Charles  II.  pp.  89-90).  N.B. — This  visit 
to  Tunbridge  has  been  confounded  with  a  later  one  in  July  1666. 
30  Charles  M'Carty,  Viscount  Muskerry,  eldest  son  to  the  Earl 
of  Clancarty ;  "  a  young  man,"  says  Lord  Clarendon,  "  of  ex- 
traordinary courage  and  expectation,  who  had  been  colonel  of 
a  regiment  of  foot  in  Flanders,  under  the  Duke,  and  had  the 


COUNT    DE   GRAMONT  311 

miles  of  Tunbridge,  a  very  handsome  seat  called 
Summer-hill.  Miss  Hamilton,  after  having-  spent  eight 
or  ten  days  at  Peckham,  could  not  excuse  herself  from 
passing  the  remainder  of  the  season  at  his  house ;  and, 
having  obtained  leave  of  Mr.  Wetenhall,  that  his  lady 
should  accompany  her,  they  left  the  melancholy  resi- 
dence of  Peckham,  and  its  tiresome  master,  and  fixed 
their  little  court  at  Summer-hill.*1 

They  went  every  day  to  Court,  or  the  Court  came  to 
them.  The  Queen  even  surpassed  her  usual  attentions 
in  inventing  and  supporting  entertainments:  she  en- 
deavoured to  increase  the  natural  ease  and  freedom  of 
Tunbridge,  by  dispensing  with,  rather  than  requiring, 
those  ceremonies  that  were  due  to  her  presence;  and, 
confining  in  the  bottom  of  her  heart  that  grief  and 
uneasiness  she  could  not  overcome,  she  saw  Miss 
Stewart  triumphantly  possess  the  affections  of  the 
King  without  manifesting  the  least  uneasiness. 

Never  did  love  see  his  empire  in  a  more  flourishing 
condition  than  on  this  spot:  those  who  were  smitten 
before  they  came  to  it,  felt  a  mighty  augmentation  of 
their  flame ;  and  those  who  seemed  the  least  susceptible 
of  love,  laid  aside  their  natural  ferocity,  to  act  in  a  new 

general   estimation  of  an  excellent  officer "    (see  also   footnote, 
p.  06). 

n  Somerhill  or  Summerhill,  the  old  stone  Jacobean  mansion 
(built  1611)  near  Tonbridge,  was  built  by  the  Earl  of  Clanricard 
(ob.  1636),  who  was  created  by  James  I.  Baron  Somerhill  and 
Viscount  Tonbridge,  and  by  Charles  I.  Earl  of  St.  Albans.1  At 
the  Commonwealth  the  estate  was  granted  to  President  Brad- 
shaw,  who  died  possessed  of  it  in  1659.  His  natural  son  suc- 
ceeded to  the  property,  but  at  the  Restoration  it  was  given  back 
to  Margaret,  the  grand-daughter  of  the  Earl  of  St.  Albans,  who 
married  Lord  Muskerry.  She  died  in  very  reduced  circumstances 
in  1698,  having  married,  secondly,  John  Villiers,  Viscount  Pur- 
beck  (nephew  of  George,  first  Duke  of  Buckingham),  and  thirdly. 
"  Beau  "  Fielding,  who  married  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  in  her 
old  age. 

1  He  must  not  be  confused  with  Jermyn,  who  was  created  Earl  of  St.  Albans 
at  the  Restoration. 


312       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

character.  For  the  truth  of  the  latter,  we  shall  only 
relate  the  change  which  soon  appeared  in  the  conduct 
of  Prince  Rupert.** 

He  was  brave  and  courageous,  even  to  rashness ;  but 
cross-grained  and  incorrigibly  obstinate:  his  genius 
was  fertile  in  mathematical  experiments,  and  he  pos- 
sessed some  knowledge  of  chemistry :  he  was  polite 
even  to  excess,  unseasonably;  but  haughty,  and  even 
brutal,  when  he  ought  to  have  been  gentle  and  cour- 
teous :  he  was  tall,  and  his  manners  were  ungracious : 
he  had  a  dry,  hard-favoured  visage,  and  a  stern  look, 

**  Prince  Rupert  was  third  son  of  Frederick,  Prince  Palatine 
of  the  Rhine,  by  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  James  I.,  nephew  to 
Charles  I.  and  cousin  to  Charles  II.,  born  1619.  From  a  very 
early  age  he  was  distinguished  on  the  battlefield,  where  his  daring 
and  valour  were  always  conspicuous,  though  his  successes  were 
marred  to  a  great  extent  by  his  hot-headed  rashness.  At  the 
commencement  of  the  Civil  Wars  he  joined  Charles  I.  at  York 
and  fought  with  conspicuous  gallantry  at  Edgehill,  Marston 
Moor,  and  Naseby.  By  the  surrender  of  Bristol  to  the  enemy 
he  lost  his  reputation  as  a  soldier  as  well  as  the  good  opinion 
of  his  uncle,  who  cancelled  all  his  commissions  for  this  fatal 
step,  which  in  a  great  measure  helped  to  ruin  the  royalist  cause. 
After  the  Restoration  he  became  distinguished  in  naval  warfare 
with  the  Dutch  in  1665  and  in  1673,  and  in  later  years  passed 
much  of  his  time  in  the  study  of  philosophy,  chemistry,  mechan- 
ism, and  the  arts.  Several  inventions  of  much  utility  in  warfare 
were  the  result  of  his  studies,  and  it  is  well  known  the  origin 
of  mezzotint  'engraving  was  discovered  by  him,  though  the  result 
of  an  accident.  Lord  Clarendon  briefly  summarises  the  char- 
acter of  the  valiant  Prince  as  follows : — "  He  was  rough  and 
passionate  and  loved  not  debate;  liked  what  was  proposed  as 
he  liked  the  persons  who  proposed  it."  He  died  at  his  house  in 
Spring  Gardens,  sgth  November  1682.  "I  think  the  Prince  was 
buried  on  Friday  night,"  says  John  Verney,  "but  if  he  was  it 
was  no  hindrance  of  the  Court  going  to  see  a  play"  (Verney 
MS.,  Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  Appendix,  p.  480).  Doctor  Plot 
says  Rupert  was  a  remarkable  shot,  and  with  a  horse  pistol  sent 
two  balls  successively  through  the  weathercock  on  the  steeple 
of  Stafford  Church.  Mention  of  Prince  Rupert's  daughter  by 
Margaret  Hughes  will  be  found  in  the  note  of  her  on  the  next 
page.  He  had  also  a  son,  Dudley  Rupert,  alias  Bard,  by  Fran- 
cesca,  daughter  of  Henry  Bard,  Viscount  Bellomont.  He  is  men- 
tioned in  the  Prince's  will  (see  Wood's  Fasti,  vol.  i.  p.  268). 


COUNT    DE   GRAMONT  313 

even  when  he  wished  to  please;  but,  when  he  was  out 
of  humour,  his  countenance  was  forbidding. 

The  Queen  had  sent  for  the  players,  either  that  there 
might  be  no  intermission  in  the  diversions  of  the  place, 
or,  perhaps,  to  retort  upon  Miss  Stewart,  by  the  pres- 
ence of  Nell  Gwyn,33  part  of  the  uneasiness  she  felt 
from  hers.  Prince  Rupert  found  charms  in  the  person 
of  another  player  called  Hughes,34  who  brought  down 
and  greatly  subdued  his  natural  fierceness.  From  this 
time,  adieu  alembics,  crucibles,  furnaces,  and  all  the 

^Hamilton  has  confused  this  visit  to  Tunbridge  Wells  with  a 
later  one  in  July  1666,  for  Nell  Gwyn  was  unknown  in  1663. 

14 Margaret,  better  known  as  "Peg"  Hughes,  one  of  the 
tarliest  English  actresses,  commenced  her  career  at  the  Drury 
Lane  Theatre  in  1663.  Here  she  was  the  first  Desdemona — the 
original  Theodosia  in  Dryden's  Evening's  Love.  Shortly  before 
January  1669,  when  she  became  Prince  Rupert's  mistress,  she 
was  playing  "  Panura  "  in  Fletcher's  Island  Princess.  Upon  her 
return  to  the  stage  in  1676  she  joined  the  Duke's  company,  and 
acted  in  several  plays  by  Sedley,  Behn,  Ravenscroft,  etc. 

"  Ruperta,"  her  daughter  by  the  Prince,  was  born  in  1673,  a°d 
at  his  death  in  1682  received  a  handsome  provision.  John  Ver- 
n'ey,  writing  2o,th  November  1682,  says :  "  The  Prince  died  this 
morning  at  6  o'clock.  Some  say  he  sent  his  garter  a  day  or  two 
ago  to  the  King,  desiring  Lord  Bur  ford  (Nell  Gwyn's  son) 
might  have  it  with  his  daughter  by  Pegg  Hughes,  to  which  last 
two  he  had  left  all  his  jewels  and  personal  estate  and  arrears 
due  from  his  Majesty.  His  estate  in  Germany,  which  is  but  small, 
he  has  given  to  his  son  by  Lady  Francis  Bellemont,  an  Irish 
lady"  (Verney  MS.,  Hist.  M.S.  Com.  Rep.  7,  Appendix,  p.  480). 
See  also  footnote,  p.  312. 

By  the  Prince's  will  (dated  ist  December  1682)  he  left  all  his 
goods,  chattels,  jewels,  plate,  furniture,  etc.,  and  all  his  estates, 
etc.,  to  William,  Earl  of  Craven,  in  trust  for  the  use  and 
behoof  of  Margaret  Hughes  and  her  daughter,  and  in  a  book 
of  accounts  at  the  old  Warwickshire  seat  of  the  Earls  of 
Craven  may  still  be  seen  a  document  signed  by  the  actress  and 
Ruperta.  The  latter  married  Emanuel  Scrope  Howe,  by  whom 
she  left  a  daughter,  Sophia  Howe,  who  was  afterwards  Maid  of 
Honour  to  Caroline,  Princess  of  Wales. 

Peg  Hughes  died  in  1719  and  was  buried  (iSth  pctober)  at 
Lee,  having  resided  the  last  part  of  her  life  at  Eltham  (see  Lee 
Parish  Registers).  Some  years  before  she  lived  at  Brandenburgh 
House,  Hammersmith,  originally  the  seat  of  Sir  Nicholas  Crisp, 


3H       THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

black  furniture  of  the  forges:  a  complete  farewell  to 
all  mathematical  instruments  and  chemical  specula- 
tions :  sweet  powder  and  essences  were  now  the  only 
ingredients  that  occupied  any  share  of  his  attention. 
The  impertinent  gipsy30  chose  to  be  attacked  in  form; 
and  proudly  refusing  money,  that  in  the  end  she  might 
sell  her  favours  at  a  dearer  rate,  she  caused  the  poor 
Prince  to  act  a  part  so  unnatural,  that  he  no  longer 
appeared  like  the  same  person.  The  King  was  greatly 
pleased  with  this  event,  for  which  great  rejoicings  were 
made  at  Tunbridge;  but  nobody  was  bold  enough  to 
make  it  the  subject  of  satire,  though  the  same  con- 
straint was  not  observed  with  other  ridiculous  per- 
sonages. 

There  was  dancing  every  day  at  the  Queen's  apart- 
ments, because  the  physicians  recommended  it,  and  no 
person  thought  it  amiss :  for  even  those  who  cared 
least  for  it,  chose  that  exercise  to  digest  the  waters 
rather  than  walking.  Lord  Muskerry  thought  himself 
secure  against  his  lady's  rage  for  dancing.  The  dis- 
consolate lady  seeing  Miss  Hamilton  and  Mrs.  Weten- 
hall  set  out  every  morning,  sometimes  on  horseback 
and  sometimes  in  a  coach,  but  ever  attended  by  a  gal- 
lant troop  to  conduct  them  to  Court,  and  to  convey 
them  back,  she  fancied  a  thousand  times  more  delights 
at  Tunbridge  than  in  reality  there  were,  and  she  did 
not  cease  in  her  imagination  to  dance  over  at  Sum- 
mer-hill all  the  country  dances  which  she  thought  had 

and  purchased  for  her  by  Prince  Rupert.  The  house  was  pulled 
down  some  years  ago. 

The  following  from  the  Belvoir  MSS.  is  worthy  of  note. 
"  One  of  the  King's  servants,"  says  Lady  Chaworth,  writing  to 
her  brother,  Lord  Roos,  2Oth  June  1670,  "hath  killed  Mr.  Hues, 
Peg  Hues'  brother,  servant  to  P(rince)  Robert  [Rupert],  upon 
a  dispute  whether  Mrs.  Nelly  (Gwyn)  or  she  was  the  hand- 
somer now  at  Windsor  "  (Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  12,  Appendix  5, 
pt.  ii.  See  also  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biography,  vol.  xxviii.  p.  185). 

"Creature  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  315 

been  danced  at  Tunbridge.  She  could  no  longer  sup- 
port the  racking  torments  which  disturbed  her  mind, 
when  relenting  Heaven,  out  of  pity  for  her  pains  and 
sufferings,  caused  Lord  Muskerry  to  repair  to  London, 
and  kept  him  there  two  whole  days.  As  soon  as  ever 
he  had  turned  his  back,  the  Babylonian  Princess  de- 
clared her  resolution  to  make  a  trip  to  Court. 

She  had  a  domestic  chaplain  who  did  not  want  sense, 
and  Lord  Muskerry,  for  fear  of  accidents,  had  recom- 
mended her  to  the  wholesome  counsels  and  good  pray- 
ers of  this  prudent  divine;  but  in  vain  were  all  his 
preachings  and  exhortations  to  stay  at  home;  in  vain 
did  he  set  before  her  eyes  her  husband's  commands, 
and  the  dangers  to  which  she  would  expose  herself  in 
her  present  condition.  These  remonstrances  were  alto- 
gether ineffectual.  Miss  Hamilton  and  her  cousin 
Wetenhall,  having  the  complaisance  to  confirm  her  in 
her  resolution,  they  assisted  in  dressing  her  the  next 
morning,  and  set  out  along  with  her.  All  their  skill 
and  dexterity  were  requisite  to  reduce  her  shape  into 
some  kind  of  symmetry;  but,  having  at  last  pinned  a 
small  cushion  under  her  petticoat  on  the  right  side, 
to  counteract  the  untoward  appearance  the  little  infant 
occasioned  by  throwing  itself  on  the  left,  they  almost 
split  their  sides  with  laughter,  assuring  her  at  the  same 
time  that  she  looked  perfectly  charming. 

As  soon  as  she  appeared,  it  was  generally  believed 
that  she  had  dressed  herself  in  a  farthingale,  in  order 
to  make  her  court  to  the  Queen ;  but  every  person  was 
pleased  at  her  arrival.  Those  who  were  unacquainted 
with  the  circumstances  assured  her  in  earnest  that  she 
was  pregnant  with  twins ;  and  the  Queen,  who  envied 
her  condition,  notwithstanding  the  ridiculous  appear- 
ance she  then  made,  upon  being  told  the  motive  of  her 
journey,  was  determined  to  gratify  her  inclinations 

As  soon  as  the  hour  for  country  dances  arrived,  her 


3i6       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

cousin  Hamilton  was  appointed  her  partner.  She  made 
some  faint  excuses  at  first  on  account  of  the  incon- 
venient situation  she  was  then  in,  but  soon  suffered 
them  to  be  overcome,  in  order,  as  she  said,  to  show  her 
duty  to  the  Queen;  and  never  did  a  woman  in  this 
world  enjoy  such  complete  satisfaction. 

We  have  already  observed,  that  the  greatest  pros- 
perity is  liable  to  the  greatest  change.  Lady  Muskerry, 
trussed  up  as  she  was,  seemed  to  feel  no  manner  of 
uneasiness  from  the  motion  in  dancing;  on  the  con- 
trary, being  only  apprehensive  of  the  presence  of  her 
husband,  which  would  have  destroyed  all  her  happi- 
ness, she  danced  with  uncommon  briskness,  lest  her 
ill  stars  should  bring  him  back  before  she  had  fully 
satisfied  herself  with  it.  In  the  midst,  therefore,  of 
her  capering  in  this  indiscreet  manner,  her  cushion 
came  loose,  without  her  perceiving  it,  and  fell  to  the 
ground  in  the  very  middle  of  the  first  round.  The 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  watched  her,"  took  it  up 
instantly,  wrapped  it  up  in  his  coat,  and,  mimicking 
the  cries  of  a  new-born  infant,  he  went  about  inquiring 
for  a  nurse  for  the  young  Muskerry  among  the  maids 
of  honour." 

This  buffoonery,  joined  to  the  strange  figure  of  the 
poor  lady,  had  almost  thrown  Miss  Stewart  into 
hysterics ;  for  the  Princess  of  Babylon,  after  this  acci- 
dent, was  quite  flat  on  one  side,  and  immoderately 
protuberant  on  the  other.  All  those  who  had  before 
suppressed  their  inclinations  to  laugh,  now  gave  them- 
selves free  scope,  when  they  saw  that  Miss  Stewart 
was  ready  to  split  her  sides.  The  poor  lady  was 
greatly  disconcerted:  every  person  was  officious  to 
console  her;  but  the  Queen,  who  inwardly  laughed 

"Was  following  her  (Vizttelly). 

"Pepys  records  a  somewhat  similar  incident  at  a  Court  ball 
in  February  1663. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  317 

more  heartily  than  any,  pretended  to  disapprove  of 
their  taking  such  liberties. 

Whilst  Miss  Hamilton  and  Mrs.  Wetenhall  en- 
deavoured to  refit  Lady  Muskerry  in  another  room, 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham  told  the  King  that,  if  the 
physicians  would  permit  a  little  exercise  immediately 
after  a  delivery,  the  best  way  to  recover  Lady  Mus- 
kerry was  to  renew  the  dance  as  soon  as  ever  her  infant 
was  replaced;  this  advice  was  approved,  and  accord- 
ingly put  into  execution.  The  Queen  proposed,  as 
soon  as  she  appeared,  a  second  round  of  country- 
dances;  and  Lady  Muskerry  accepting  the  offer,  the 
remedy  had  its  desired  effect,  and  entirely  removed 
every  remembrance  of  her  late  mishap. 

Whilst  these  things  were  passing  at  the  King's 
Court,  that  of  the  Duke  of  York  took  a  journey  on  the 
other  side  of  London;*  the  pretence  of  this  journey 
was  to  visit  the  county  whose  name  he  bore ;  but  love 
was  the  real  motive.  The  Duchess,  since  her  elevation, 
had  conducted  herself  with  such  prudence  and  circum- 

*  See  Sir  John  Reresby's  Memoirs,  1875,  p.  64,  5th  August  1665 : 
"His  Royal  Highness  the  Duke  end  his  Duchess  cane  down 
to  York.  They  stayed  till  September  the  23rd,  when  the  Duke 
went  for  Oxford,  where  the  King  was  to  meet  the  Parliament 
The  Duchess  went  not  till  some  time  after — she  was  a  very 
handsome  woman  and  had  a  great  deal  of  wit,  therefore  it  was 
not  without  reason  that  Mr.  Sidney,  the  handsomest  youth  of  his 
time,  of  the  Duke's  bedchamber,  was  so  much  in  love  with  her 
as  appeared  to  us  all,  and  the  Duchess  not  unkind  to  him,  but 
very  innocently;  he  was  afterwards  banished  the  Court  for 
another  reason,  as  was  reported."  Burnet  mentions  this  transac- 
tion, and  insinuates  that  to  this  cause  is  to  be  ascribed  the 
Duchess's  conversion  (see  Burnet*s  History  of  his  Own  Time, 
vol.  i.  p.  318).  The  following  extract  is  from  Spence's  Anecdotes 
(ed.  Singer,  p.  329)  :  " '  How  could  the  Duke  of  York  make  my 
mother  a  papist,'  said  the  Princess  Mary  to  Dr.  Burnet.  'The 
Duke  caught  a  man  in  bed  with  her,'  said  the  Doctor,  '  and  then 
had  power  to  make  her  do  anything.' "  Pepys,  referring  to  this 
amour,  says,  I7th  November  1665  (by  Lord  Sandwich's  account), 
"how  the  Duchess  is  fallen  in  love  with  her  new  Master  of 
the  Horse,  one  Harry  Sidney."  See  also  footnote,  p.  328. 


3i8       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

spection  as  could  not  be  sufficiently  admired.  Such 
were  her  manners,  and  such  the  general  estimation  in 
which  she  was  held,  that  she  appeared  to  have  found 
out  the  secret  of  pleasing  every  one :  a  secret  yet  more 
rare  than  the  grandeur  to  which  she  had  been  raised ; 
but,  after  having  gained  universal  esteem,  she  was 
desirous  of  being  more  particularly  beloved;  or,  more 
properly  speaking,  malicious  Cupid  assaulted  her  heart, 
in  spite  of  the  discretion,  prudence,  and  reason,  with 
which  she  had  fortified  it. 

In  vain  had  she  said  to  herself  a  hundred  times, 
that  if  the  Duke  had  been  so  kind  as  to  do  her  justice 
by  falling  in  love  with  her,  he  had  done  her  too  much 
honour  by  making  her  his  wife;  that  with  respect  to 
his  inconstant  disposition,  which  estranged  him  from 
her,  she  ought  to  bear  it  with  patience,  until  it  pleased 
Heaven  to  produce  a  change  in  his  conduct;  that  the 
frailties  on  his  part,  which  might  to  her  appear  injuri- 
ous, would  never  justify  in  her  the  least  deviation 
from  her  duty ;  and,  as  resentment  was  still  less  allow- 
able, she  ought  to  endeavour  to  regain  him  by  a  con- 
duct entirely  opposite  to  his  own.  In  vain  was  it,  as 
we  have  said  before,  that  she  had  long  resisted  Love 
and  his  emissaries  by  the  help  of  these  maxims :  how 
solid  soever  reason,  and  however  obstinate  wisdom  and 
virtue  may  be,  there  are  yet  certain  attacks  which  tire 
by  their  length,  and,  in  the  end,  subdue  both  reason 
and  virtue  itself. 

The  Duchess  of  York  was  one  of  the  highest  feeders 
in  England.  As  this  was  an  unforbidden  pleasure, 
she  indulged  herself  in  it,  as  an  indemnification  for 
other  self-denials.  It  was  really  an  edifying  sight  to 
see  her  at  table.  The  Duke,  on  the  contrary,  being 
incessantly  in  the  hurry  of  new  fancies,  exhausted 
himself  by  his  inconstancy,  and  was  gradually  wasting 
away;  whilst  the  poor  Princess,  gratifying  her  good 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  319 

appetite,  grew  so  fat  and  plump  that  it  was  a  blessing 
to  see  her.  It  is  not  easy  to  determine  how  long  things 
would  have  continued  in  this  situation,  if  Love,  who 
was  resolved  to  have  satisfaction  for  her  late  conduct, 
so  opposite  to  the  former,  had  not  employed  artifice 
as  well  as  force  to  disturb  her  repose. 

He  at  first  let  loose  upon  her  resentment  and  jeal- 
ousy, two  mortal  enemies  to  all  tranquillity  and  hap- 
piness. A  tall  creature,  pale-faced,  and  nothing  but 
skin  and  bone,  named  Churchill,89  whom  she  had  taken 
for  a  maid  of  honour,  became  the  object  of  her  jeal- 
ousy, because  she  was  then  the  object  of  the  Duke's 
affection. 

The  Court  was  not  able  to  comprehend  how,  after 
having  been  in  love  with  Lady  Chesterfield,  Miss  Ham- 
ilton, and  Miss  Jennings,  he  could  have  any  inclination 
for  such  a  creature ;  but  they  soon  perceived  that  some- 
thing more  than  unaccountable  variety  had  a  great 
share  in  effecting  this  conquest. 

The  Duchess  beheld  with  indignation  a  choice  which 
seemed  to  debase  her  own  merit  in  a  much  greater 
degree  than  any  of  the  former.  At  the  very  instant 
that  indignation  and  jealousy  began  to  provoke  her 
spleen,  perfidious  Cupid  threw  in  the  way  of  her  pas- 

19  Arabella  Churchill,  daughter  of  Sir  Winston  Churchill  of 
Wotton  Basset,  Wilts,  and  sister  to  the  celebrated  John,  Duke  of 
Marlborough.  Born  1648.  By  the  Duke  of  York  she  was  mother 
of  James,  Duke  of  Berwick ;  Henry  Fitz-James,  commonly  called 
the  Grand  Prior,  born  1673,  who  was,  after  the  Revolution, 
icreated  by  his  father  Duke  of  Albemarle,  and  died  1702;  Arabella, 
a  nun,  who  died  at  the  age  of  ninety  in  1762  (vide  Notes  and 
Queries,  2nd  Series,  vol.  iv.  p.  488)  ;  Henrietta,  born  1670,  mar- 
ried to  Lord  Waldegrave,  and  died  1730.  Miss  Churchill  after- 
wards became  the  wife  of  Charles  Godfrey,  Esq.  (ob.  1715,  al* 
sixty-seven),  Clerk-Comptroller  of  the  Green  Cloth,  and  Master 
of  the  Jewel  Office,  by  whom  she  had  two  daughters:  one,  Char- 
lotte, Maid  of  Honour  to  Queen  Mary,  married  to  H.  Boscawen, 
afterwards  Viscount  Falmouth,  and  the  other,  Elizabeth,  to  Ed- 
mund Dunch,  Esq.,  of  Wallingford.  Mrs.  Godfrey  died  at  White- 
hall in  May  1730,  at  the  age  of  eighty-two. 


320       THE  COURT  OF   CHARLES  II 

sions  and  resentments  the  amiable,  handsome  Sidney  ;* 
and,  whilst  he  kept  her  eyes  fixed  upon  his  personal 
perfections,  diverted  her  attention  from  perceiving  the 
deficiency  of  his  mental  accomplishments.  She  was 
wounded  before  she  was  aware  of  her  danger ;  but  the 
good  opinion  Sidney  had  of  his  own  merit  did  not 
suffer  him  long  to  be  ignorant  of  such  a  glorious 
conquest ;  and,  in  order  more  effectually  to  secure  it, 
1  his  eyes  rashly  answered  'everything  which  those  of 
her  Royal  Highness  had  the  kindness  to  tell  him, 
whilst  his  personal  accomplishments41  were  carefully 
heightened  by  all  the  advantages  of  dress  and  show. 

The  Duchess,  foreseeing  the  consequences  of  such 
an  engagement,  strongly  combated  the  inclination  that 
hurried  her  away;  but  Miss  Hobart,  siding  with  that 
inclination,  argued  the  matter  with  her  scruples,  and, 
in  the  end,  really  vanquished  them.  This  girl  had 
insinuated  herself  into  her  Royal  Highness's  confi- 
dence by  a  fund  of  news  with  which  she  was  provided 
the  whole  year  round.  The  Court  and  the  city  sup- 
plied her ;  nor  was  it  very  material  to  her  whether  her 
stories  were  true  or  false,  her  chief  care  being  that 
they  should  prove  agreeable  to  her  mistress.  She  knew, 
likewise,  how  to  gratify  her  palate,  and  constantly 
provided  a  variety  of  those  dishes  and  liquors  which 
she  liked  best.  These  qualifications  had  rendered  her 
necessary;  but,  desirous  of  being  still  more  so,  and 
having  perceived  both  the  airs  that  Sidney  gave  him- 
self, and  what  was  passing  in  the  heart  of  her  mistress, 
the  cunning  Hobart  took  the  liberty  of  telling  her 
Royal  Highness  that  this  unfortunate  youth  was  pin- 
ing away  solely  on  her  account ;  that  it  was  a  thousand 
pities  a  man  of  his  figure  should  lose  the  respect  for 
her  which  was  most  certainly  her  due,  merely  because 
she  had  reduced  him  to  such  a  state  that  he  could  no 

"Henry  Sidney.    See  note,  p.  98.    "Attraction*  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  321 

longer  preserve  it ;  that  he  was  gradually  dying  away 
on  her  account,  in  the  sight  of  the  whole  Court;  that 
his  situation  would  soon  be  generally  remarked,  ex- 
cept she  made  use  of  the  proper  means  to  prevent  it; 
that,  in  her  opinion,  her  Royal  Highness  ought  to  pity 
the  miserable  situation  into  which  her  charms  had  re- 
duced him,  and  to  endeavour  to  alleviate  his  pain  in 
some  way  or  other.  The  Duchess  asked  her  what  she 
meant  by  "endeavouring  to  alleviate  his  pain  in  some 
way  or  other."  "I  mean,  madam,"  answered  Miss 
Hobart,  "that,  if  either  his  person  be  disagreeable,  or 
his  passion  troublesome,  you  will  give  him  his  dis- 
charge; or,  if  you  choose  to  retain  him  in  your  service, 
as  all  the  princesses  in  the  world  would  do  in  your 
place,  you  will  permit  me  to  give  him  directions  from 
you  for  his  future  conduct,  mixed  with  a  few  grains 
of  hope  to  prevent  his  entirely  losing  his  senses,  until 
you  find  a  proper  occasion  yourself  to  acquaint  him 
with  your  wishes."  "What !"  said  the  Duchess,  "would 
you  advise  me,  Hobart — you,  who  really  love  me — to 
engage  in  an  affair  of  this  nature,  at  the  expense  of  my 
honour,  and  the  hazard  of  a  thousand  inconveniences ! 
If  such  frailties  are  sometimes  excusable,  they  certainly 
are  not  so  in  the  high  station  in  which  I  am  placed; 
and  it  would  be  an  ill-requital  on  my  part  for  his 

goodness  who  raised  me  to  the  rank  I  now  fill,  to " 

"All  this  is  very  fine,"  interrupted  Miss  Hobart; 
"but  is  it  not  very  well  known  that  he  only  married 
you  because  he  was  importuned  to  do  so  ?  Since  that, 
I  leave  you  to  decide  whether  he  has  ever  restrained 
his  inclination  a  single  moment,  giving  you  the  most 
convincing  proofs  of  the  change  that  has  taken  place  in 
his  heart,  by  a  thousand  provoking  infidelities?  Is  it 
still  your  intention  to  persevere  in  a  state  of  indolence 
and  humility,  whilst  the  Duke,  after  having  received 
the  favours,  or  suffered  the  repulses,  of  all  the  co- 


322       THE   COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

quettes  in  England,  pays  his  addresses  to  the  maids  of 
honour,  one  after  the  other,  and  at  present  places  his 
whole  ambition  and  desires  in  the  conquest  of  that  ugly 
skeleton,"  Churchill  ?  What !  madam,  must  then  your 
prime  of  life  be  spent  in  a  sort  of  widowhood  in 
deploring  your  misfortunes,  without  ever  being  per- 
mitted to  make  use  of  any  remedy  that  may  offer  ?  A 
woman  must  be  endowed  with  insuperable  patience,  or 
with  an  inexhaustible  degree  of  resignation,  to  bear 
this.  Can  a  husband,  who  disregards  you  both  night 
and  day,  really  suppose,  because  his  wife  eats  and 
drinks  heartily,  as,  God  be  thanked,  your  Royal  High- 
ness does,  that  she  wants  nothing  else  than  to  sleep 
well  too  ?  Faith,  such  conduct  is  too  bad :  I  therefore 
once  more  repeat  that  there  is  not  a  princess  in  the 
universe  who  would  refuse  the  homage  of  a  man  like 
Sidney,  when  a  husband  pays  his  addresses  else- 
where." 

These  reasons  were  certainly  not  morally  good ;  but 
had  they  been  still  worse  the  Duchess  would  have 
yielded  to  them,  so  much  did  her  heart  act  in  concert 
with  Miss  Hobart,  to  overthrow  her  discretion  and 
prudence. 

This  intrigue  began  at  the  very  time  that  Miss 
Hobart  advised  Miss  Temple  not  to  give  any  encour- 
agement to  the  addresses  of  the  handsome  Sidney.  As 
for  him,  no  sooner  was  he  informed  by  the  confidante 
Hobart  that  the  Duchess  accepted  his  adoration,  than 
he  immediately  began  to  be  particularly  reserved  and 
circumspect  in  his  behaviour,  in  order  to  divert  the 
attention  of  the  public ;  but  the  public  is  not  so  easily 
deceived  as  some  people  imagine. 

As  there  were  too  many  spies,  too  many  inquisitive 
people  and  critics,  in  a  numerous  Court,  residing  in 
the  midst  of  a  populous  city,  the  Duchess,  to  avoid 
"Jade  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  323 

exposing  the  inclinations  of  her  heart  to  the  scrutiny 
of  so  many  inquisitors,  engaged  the  Duke  of  York  to 
undertake  the  journey  before  mentioned;  whilst  the 
Queen  and  her  Court  were  at  Tunbridge. 

This  conduct  was  prudent;  and,  if  agreeable  to  her, 
was  far  from  displeasing  to  any  of  her  Court,  except 
Miss  Jennings.  Jermyn  was  not  of  the  party ;  and,  in 
her  opinion,  every  party  was  insipid  in  which  he  was 
not  one  of  the  company.  He  had  engaged  himself  in 
an  enterprise  above  his  strength,  in  laying  a  wager 
which  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  had  laid  before,  and 
lost.  He  betted  five  hundred  guineas  that  he  would 
ride  on  the  high  road  twenty  miles  in  one  hour  upon 
the  same  horse.  The  day  he  had  fixed  upon  for  this 
race  was  the  very  same  in  which  Miss  Jennings  went  to 
the  fortune-teller's. 

Jermyn  was  more  fortunate  than  her  in  this  under- 
taking :  he  came  off  victorious ;  but  as  his  courage  had 
far  exceeded  the  strength  of  his  constitution  in  this 
exertion  to  win  the  wager,  he  got  a  violent  fever  into 
the  bargain,  which  brought  him  very  low.  Miss  Jen- 
nings inquired  after  his  health;  but  that  was  all  she 
dared  to  do.  In  modern  romances,  a  princess  need 
'only  pay  a  visit  to  some  hero,  abandoned  by  his  physi- 
cians, and  a  perfect  cure  would  be  wrought  in  three 
days ;  but  since  Miss  Jennings  had  not  been  the  cause 
of  Jermyn's  fever,  she  was  not  certain  of  relieving  him 
from  it,  although  she  had  been  sure  that  a  charitable 
visit  would  not  have  been  censured  in  a  malicious 
Court.  Without  therefore  paying  any  attention  to  the 
uneasiness  she  might  feel  upon  the  occasion,  the  Court 
set  out  without  him.  She  had,  however,  the  gratifica- 
tion to  show  her  ill-humour  throughout  the  whole 
journey,  by  appearing  displeased  with  everything 
which  seemed  to  afford  satisfaction  to  all  the  rest  of 
'the  company. 

11 — Memoirs  VoL  4 


324       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

Talbot  made  one  of  the  company;  and  flattering 
himself  that  the  absence  of  a  dangerous  rival  might 
produce  some  change  in  his  favour,  he  was  attentive 
to  all  the  actions,  motions,  and  even  gestures,  of  his 
former  mistress.  There  was  certainly  enough  fully  to 
employ  his  attention:  it  was  contrary  to  her  disposi- 
tion to  remain  long  in  a  serious  humour.  Her  natural 
vivacity  hurried  her  away  from  being  seemingly  lost 
in  thought,  into  sallies  of  wit,  which  afforded  him 
hopes  that  she  would  soon  forget  Jermyn,  and  remem- 
ber that  his  own  passion  was  the  first  she  had  encour- 
aged. However,  he  kept  his  distance,  notwithstanding 
his  love  and  his  hopes,  being  of  opinion  that  it  ill 
became  an  injured  lover  to  betray  either  the  least 
weakness,  or  the  smallest  return  of  affection,  for  an 
ungrateful  mistress,  who  had  deserted  him. 

Miss  Jennings  was  so  far  from  thinking  of  his  re- 
sentments, that  she  did  not  even  recollect  he  had  ever 
paid  his  addresses  to  her;  and  her  thoughts  being 
wholly  occupied  upon  the  poor  sick  man,  she  conducted 
herself  towards  Talbot  as  if  they  never  had  had  any- 
thing to  say  to  each  other.  It  was  to  him  that  she 
most  usually  gave  her  hand,  either  in  getting  into  or 
out  of  the  coach ;  she  conversed  more  readily  with  him 
than  any  other  person,  and,  without  intending  it,  did 
everything  to  make  the  Court  believe  she  was  cured  of 
her  passion  for  Jermyn  in  favour  of  her  former  lover. 

Of  this  he  seemed  likewise  convinced,  as  well  as  the 
rest;  and  thinking  it  now  proper  to  act  another  part, 
in  order  to  let  her  know  that  his  sentiments  with 
respect  to  her  were  still  the  same,  he  had  resolved  to 
address  her  in  the  most  tender  and  affectionate  manner 
upon  this  subject.  Fortune  seemed  to  have  favoured 
him,  and  to  have  smoothed  the  way  for  this  intended 
harangue.  He  was  alone  with  her  in  her  chamber; 
and,  what  was  still  better,  she  was  rallying  him  con- 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  325 

earning1  Miss  Boynton,  saying,  "that  they  were  un- 
doubtedly much  obliged  to  him  for  attending  them  on 
their  journey,  whilst  poor  Miss  Boynton  had  fainting- 
fits at  Tunbridge,  at  least  twice  a  day,  for  love  of  him." 
Upon  this  discourse  Talbot  thought  it  right  to  begin 
the  recital  of  his  sufferings  and  fidelity,  when  Miss 
Temple,  with  a  paper  in  her  hand,  entered  the  room. 
This  was  a  letter  in  verse,  which  Lord  Rochester  had 
written  some  time  before,  upon  the  intrigues  of  the 
two  Courts;  wherein,  upon  the  subject  of  Miss  Jen- 
nings, he  said,  "that  Talbot  had  struck  terror  among 
the  people  of  God  by  his  gigantic  stature;  but  that 
Jermyn,  like  a  little  David,  had  vanquished  the  great 
Goliath."  Jennings,  delighted  with  this  allusion,  read 
it  over  two  or  three  times,  thought  it  more  entertain- 
ing than  Talbot's  conversation,  and  at  first  heartily 
laughed  at  it;  but  soon  after,  in  a  tender  air,  she  said, 
with  a  deep  sigh,  "Poor  little  David !"  and  turning  her 
head  on  one  side  during  this  short  reverie,  shed  a  few 
tears,  which  assuredly  did  not  flow  for  the  defeat  of  the 
giant.  This  stung  Talbot  to  the  quick;  and,  seeing 
himself  so  ridiculously  deceived  in  his  hopes,  he  went 
abruptly  out  of  the  room,  vowing  never  to  think 
any  more  of  a  giddy  girl,  whose  conduct  was  regulated 
neither  by  sense  nor  reason;  but  he  did  not  keep  his 
resolution. 

The  other  votaries  of  love,  who  were  numerous  in 
this  Court,  were  more  successful,  the  journey  being 
undertaken  solely  on  that  account.  There  were  con- 
tinual balls  and  entertainments  upon  the  road;  hunt- 
ing, and  all  other  diversions,  wherever  the  Court  halted 
in  its  progress.  The  tender  lovers  flattered  themselves 
with  the  thought  of  being  able  to  crown  their  happi- 
ness as  they  proeeded  in  their  journey;  and  the  beau- 
ties who  governed  their  destiny  did  not  forbid  them 
to  hope.  Sidney  paid  his  court  with  wonderful  assi- 


326       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

duity.  The  Duchess  made  the  Duke  take  notice  of  his 
late  perfect  devotion  to  her  service;  his  Royal  High- 
ness observed  it,  and  agreed  that  he  ought  to  be 
remembered  upon  the  first  opportunity,  which  hap- 
pened soon  after. 

Montagu,  as  before  mentioned,  was  Master  of  the 
Horse  to  the  Duchess;  he  was  possessed  of  a  great 
deal  of  wit,  had  much  penetration,  and  loved  mischief. 
How  could  she  bear  such  a  man  near  her  person,  in 
the  present  situation  of  her  heart?  This  greatly 
embarrassed  her ;  but  Montagu's  elder  brother  having, 
very  apropos,  got  himself  killed  where  he  had  no  busi- 
ness,43 the  Duke  obtained  for  Montagu  the  post  of 
Master  of  the  Horse  to  the  Queen,  which  the  deceased 
enjoyed;  and  the  handsome  Sidney  was  appointed  to 
succeed  him  in  the  same  employment  to  the  Duchess. 
All  this  happened  according  to  her  wish,  and  the  Duke 
was  highly  pleased  that  he  had  found  means  to  pro- 
mote these  two  gentlemen  at  once,  without  being  at  the 
least  expense. 

Miss  Hobart  greatly  applauded  these  promotions. 
She  had  frequent  and  long  conversations  with  Sidney, 
which,  being  remarked,  some  did  her  the  honour  to 
believe  it  was  upon  her  own  account;  and  the  com- 

**  Montagu's  elder  brother,  Edward,  eldest  son  of  Edward, 
second  Lord  Montagu  of  Boughton,  was  killed  before  Bergen, 
2nd  August  1665.  He  was  in  disgrace  at  Court  at  the  time.  Re- 
ferring to  this  disgrace,  Pepys  says  (2Oth  May  1664)  :  "  His  fault 
I  perceive  was  his  pride  and  most  of  all  his  affecting  to  be 
great  with  the  Queen;  and  it  seems,  indeed,  he  had  more  of  her 
care  than  everybody  else,  and  would  be  with  her  talking  alone 
two  or  three  hours  together,  insomuch  that  the  lords  about  the 
King,  when  he  would  be  jesting  with  them  about  their  wives, 
would  tell  the  King  that  he  must  have  a  care  of  his  wife  too,  for 
she  hath  now  the  gallant;  and  they  say  that  the  King  himself 
did  once  ask  Montagu  how  his  mistress  (meaning  the  Queen) 
did.  He  grew  so  proud  and  despised  everybody,  besides  suffering 
nobody,  he  or  she,  to  get  or  do  anything  about  the  Queen,  that 
they  all  laboured  to  do  him  a  good  turn.  So  he  is  gone,  nobody 
pitying  but  laughing  at  him." 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  327 

pliments  that  were  made  her  upon  the  occasion  she 
most  willingly  received.  The  Duke,  who  believed  it 
at  first,  observed  to  the  Duchess  the  unaccountable 
taste  of  certain  persons,  and  how  the  handsomest 
young  fellow  in  England  was  infatuated  with  such  a 
frightful  creature. 

The  Duchess  confessed  that  taste  was  very  arbi- 
trary; the  truth  whereof  he  himself  seemed  to  be  con- 
vinced of,  since  he  had  fixed  upon  the  beauteous  Helen 
for  his  mistress.*4  I  know  not  whether  this  raillery 
caused  him  to  reflect  for  what  reasons  he  had  made  his 
choice;  but  it  is  certain  he  began  to  cool  in  his  affec- 
tions for  Miss  Churchill;  and  perhaps  he  would  en- 
tirely have  abandoned  this  pursuit,  had  not  an  accident 
taken  place,  which  raised  in  him  an  entirely  new  in- 
clination for  her. 

The  Court  having  halted  for  a  few  days  in  a  fine 
open  country,  the  Duchess  was  desirous  of  seeing  a 
greyhound  course.  This  diversion  is  practised  in  Eng- 
land upon  large  downs,  where  the  turf,  eaten  by  the 
sheep,  is  particularly  green,  and  wonderfully  even. 
She  was  in  her  coach,  and  all  the  ladies  on  horseback, 
every  one  of  them  being  attended  by  her  squire;  it 
therefore  was  but  reasonable  that  the  mistress  should 
likewise  have  her  squire.  He  accordingly  was  at  the 
side  of  her  coach,  and  seemed  to  compensate  for  his 
deficiencies  in  conversation  by  the  uncommon  beauty 
of  his  mien  and  figure. 

The  Duke  attended  Miss  Churchill,  not  for  the  sake 
of  besieging  her  with  soft  flattering  tales  of  love,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  to  chide  her  for  sitting  so  ill  on  horse- 

44qth  January  1665-6.  The  Duke's  surgeon,  Pierce,  tells  Pepys: 
"  How  great  a  difference  hath  been  between  the  Duke  and 
Duchess,  he  suspecting  her  to  be  naught  with  Mr.  Sidney.  But 
some  way  or  other,  the  matter  is  made  up,  but  he  was  banished 
the  Court,  and  the  Duke  for  many  days  did  not  speak  to  the 
Duchess  at  all."  See  also  Spence's  Anecdotes,  p.  329. 


328       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

back.  She  was  one  the  most  indolent  creatures  in 
the  world;  and  although  the  maids  of  honour  are 
generally  the  worst  mounted  of  the  whole  Court,  yet, 
in  order  to  distinguish  her,  on  account  of  the  favour 
she  enjoyed,  they  had  given  her  a  very  pretty,  though 
rather  a  high-spirited  horse:  a  distinction  she  would 
very  willingly  have  excused  them. 

The  embarrassment  and  fear  she  was  under  had 
added  to  her  natural  paleness.  In  this  situation,  her 
countenance  had  almost  completed  the  Duke's  disgust, 
when  her  horse,  desirous  of  keeping  pace  with  the 
others,  set  off  at  a  gallop,  notwithstanding  her  greatest 
efforts  to  prevent  it ;  and  her  endeavours  to  hold  him 
in,  firing  his  mettle,  he  at  length  set  off  at  full  speed, 
as  if  he  was  running  a  race  against  the  Duke's  horse. 

Miss  Churchill  lost  her  seat,  screamed  out,  and  fell 
from  her  horse.  A  fall  at  so  quick  a  pace  must  have 
been  violent;  and  yet  it  proved  favourable  to  her  in 
every  respect;  for,  without  receiving  any  hurt,  she 
gave  the  lie  to  all  the  unfavourable  suppositions  that 
had  been  formed  of  her  person,  in  judging  from  her 
face.  The  Duke  alighted,  in  order  to  help  her;  she 
was  so  greatly  stunned,  that  her  thoughts  were  other- 
wise employed  than  about  decency  on  the  present  occa- 
sion; and  those  who  first  crowded  around  her  found 
her  rather  in  a  negligent  posture.  They  could  hardly 
believe  that  limbs  of  such  exquisite  beauty  could  belong 
to  Miss  Churchill's  face.  After  this  accident,  it  was 
remarked  that  the  Duke's  tenderness  and  affection 
for  her  increased  every  day;  and  towards  the  end 
of  the  winter,  it  appeared  that  she  had  not  tyran- 
nised over  his  passion,  nor  made  him  languish  with 
impatience. 

The  two  Courts  returned  to  London  much  about 
the  same  time,  equally  satisfied  with  their  respective 
excursions;  though  the  Queen  was  disappointed  in  the 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  329 

hopes  she  had  entertained  of  the  good  effects  of  the 
Tunbridge  waters. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
received  a  letter  from  the  Marchioness  de  Saintr- 
Chaumont,15  his  sister,  acquainting  him  that  he  might 
return  when  he  thought  proper,  the  King  having  given 
him  leave.  He  would  have  received  this  news  with 
joy  at  any  other  time,  whatever  had  been  the  charms 
of  the  English  Court;  but,  in  the  present  situation  of 
his  heart,  he  could  not  resolve  to  quit  it. 

He  had  returned  from  Tunbridge  a  thousand  times 
deeper  in  love  than  ever;  for,  during  this  agreeable 
excursion,  he  had  every  day  seen  Miss  Hamilton,  either 
in  the  marshes  of  melancholy  Peckham,  in  the  deli- 
cious walks  of  cheerful  Summer-hill,  or  in  the  daily 
diversions  and  entertainments  of  the  Queen's  Court; 
and  whether  he  saw  her  on  horseback,  heard  her  con- 
versation, or  observed  her  in  the  dance,  still  he  was 
persuaded  that  Heaven  had  never  formed  an  object 
in  every  respect  more  worthy  of  the  love,  and  more 
deserving  the  affection,  of  a  man  of  sense  and  delicacy. 
How  then  was  it  possible  for  him  to  bear  the  thoughts 
of  leaving  her?  This  appeared  to  him  absolutely 
impracticable ;  however,  'as  he  was  desirous  of  receiv- 
ing the  credit  of  the  determination  he  had  made  to 
neglect  his  fortune,  rather  than  to  be  separated  from 
her  charms,  he  showed  her  his  sister's  letter;  but  this 
confidence  had  not  the  success  he  expected. 

Miss  Hamilton,  in  the  first  place,  congratulated  him 
upon  his  recall.  She  returned  him  many  thanks  for 
the  sacrifice  he  intended  to  make  her ;  but  as  this  testi- 
mony of  affection  greatly  exceeded  the  bounds  of  mere 
gallantry,  however  sensibly  she  might  feel  this  mark 

"Susan  Charlotte  de  Gramont,  wife  of  Marquis  de  Saint- 
Chaumont,  stepsister  of  the  Chevalier  (vide  Vizetelly's  edition, 
vol.  ii.  p.  172). 


330       THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

of  his  tenderness,  she  was  determined  not  to  abuse 
it.  In  vain  did  he  protest  that  he  would  rather  meet 
death  than  part  from  her  irresistible  charms;  and  her 
irresistible  charms  protested  that  he  should  never  see 
them  more  unless  he  departed  immediately.  Thus  was 
he  forced  to  obey.  However,  he  was  allowed  to  flatter 
himself,  that  these  positive  orders,  harsh  as  they  might 
appear,  did  not  flow  from  indifference ;  that  she  would 
always  be  more  pleased  with  his  return  than  with  his 
departure,  for  which  she  was  now  so  urgent ;  and  hav- 
ing generously  given  him  assurance  that,  so  far  as 
depended  upon  himself,  he  would  find,  upon  his  re- 
turn, no  variation  in  her  sentiments  during  his 
absence,  he  took  leave  of  his  friends,  thinking  of 
nothing  but  his  return,  at  the  very  time  he  was  mak- 
ing preparations  for  his  departure.** 

44  This  was  in  the  middle  of  December  1663.  The  French  Am- 
bassador, Comminges,  wrote  to  King  Louis  that,  on  the  point 
of  starting,  Charles  II.  detained  him  for  a  day,  as  he  surmises, 
either  to  make  him  a  present  or  to  facilitate  the  payment  of  a 
debt  of  Lady  Castlemaine  amounting  to  800  pieces.  But  at  that 
time  he  had  other  sums  owing  to  him,  which  he  proposed  to 
come  and  fetch  when  he  declared  himself  on  the  subject  of 
Miss  Hamilton. 

Strange  to  say,  only  a  few  days  later  (22nd  December),  the 
union  took  place.  Comminges  declared  that  the  affair  was  so 
involved  that  those  with  the  most  penetration  could  not  fathom 
it.  By  general  repute  the  Chevalier  was  on  his  way  to  his  native 
country,  but  was  overtaken  at  Dover  by  Miss  Hamilton's  brothers 
George  and  Anthony,  who  asked  him  whether  he  had  not  forgotten 
anything  in  London.  "  I  have  forgotten  to  marry  your  sister," 
answered  Gramont,  whereupon  he  returned  with  them,  probably 
under  compulsion.  That  the  Count's  son  was  born  under  the 
usually  allotted  time  can  scarcely  be  brought  forward  as  an 
argument  that  matters  had  gone  farther  than  they  should  hare 
done  before  Gramont's  departure. 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE  nearer  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  approached 
the  Court  of  France,  the  more  did  he  regret  his 
absence  from  that  of  England ;  not  but  that  he 
expected  a  gracious  reception  at  the  feet  of  his  master, 
whose  anger  no  one  provoked  with  impunity ;  but  who 
likewise  knew  how  to  pardon,  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
make  the  favour  he  conferred  in  every  respect  to  be 
felt. 

A  thousand  different  thoughts  occupied  his  mind 
upon  the  journey.  Sometimes  he  reflected  upon  the 
joy  and  satisfaction  his  friends  and  relations  would 
experience  upon  his  return;  sometimes  upon  the  con- 
gratulations and  embraces  of  those  who,  being  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other,  would,  nevertheless,  overwhelm 
him  with  impertinent  compliments.  All  these  ideas 
passed  quickly  through  his  head ;  for  a  man  deeply  in 
love  makes  it  a  scruple  of  conscience  not  to  suffer  any 
other  thoughts  to  dwell  upon  his  mind  than  those  of 
the  object  beloved.  It  was  then  the  tender,  endearing 
remembrance  of  what  he  had  left  in  London  that 
diverted  his  thoughts  from  Paris;  and  it  was  the 
torments  of  absence  that  prevented  his  feeling  those  of 
the  bad  roads  and  the  bad  Horses.  His  heart  protested 
to  Miss  Hamilton,  between  Montreuil  and  Abbeville, 
that  he  only  tore  himself  from  her  with  such  haste  to 
return  the  sooner;  after  which,  by  a  short  reflection, 
comparing  the  regret  he  had  formerly  felt  upon  the 
same  road,  in  quitting  France  for  England,  with  that 
which  he  now  experienced,  in  quitting  England  for 

331 


332       THE  COURT   OF  CHARLES   II 

France,  he  found  the  latter  much  more  insupportable 
than  the  former. 

It  is  thus  that  a  man  in  love  entertains  himself  upon 
the  road;  or  rather,  it  is  thus  that  a  trifling  writer 
abuses  the  patience  of  his  reader,  either  to  display  his 
own  sentiments,  or  to  lengthen  out  a  tedious  story; 
but  God  forbid  that  this  character  should  apply  to 
ourselves,  since  we  profess  to  insert  nothing  in  these 
Memoirs  but  what  we  have  heard  from  the  mouth  of 
him  whose  actions  and  sayings  we  transmit  to  pos- 
terity. 

Who,  except  Squire  Feraulas,  has  ever  been  able  to 
keep  a  register  of  all  the  thoughts,  sighs,  and  exclama- 
tions of  his  illustrious  master  ?  For  my  own  part,  I 
should  never  have  thought  that  the  attention  of  the 
Count  de  Gramont,  which  is  at  present  so  sensible  to 
inconveniences  and  dangers,  would  have  ever  per- 
mitted him  to  entertain  amorous  thoughts  upon  the 
road,  if  he  did  not  himself  dictate  to  me  what  I  am 
now  writing. 

But  let  us  speak  of  him  at  Abbeville.  The  post- 
master was  his  old  acquaintance.  His  hotel  was  the 
best  provided  of  any  between  Calais  and  Paris;  and 
the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  alighting,  told  Termes  he 
would  drink  a  glass  of  wine  during  the  time  they  were 
changing  horses.  It  was  about  noon;  and,  since  the 
preceding  night,  when  they  had  landed  at  Calais,  until 
this  instant,  they  had  not  eaten  a  single  mouthful. 
Termes,  praising  the  Lord,  that  natural  feelings  had 
for  once  prevailed  over  the  inhumanity  of  his  usual 
impatience,  confirmed  him  as  much  as  possible  in  such 
reasonable  sentiments. 

Upon  their  entering  the  kitchen,  where  the  Chevalier 
generally  paid  his  first  visit,  they  were  surprised  to  see 
half  a  dozen  spits  loaded  with  game  at  the  fire,  and 
every  other  preparation  for  a  magnificent  entertain- 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  333 

ment.  The  heart  of  Termes  leaped  for  joy;  he  gave 
private  orders  to  the  hostler  to  pull  the  shoes  off  some 
of  the  horses,  that  he  might  not  be  forced  away  from 
this  place  before  he  had  satisfied  his  craving  appetite. 

Soon  after,  a  number  of  violins  and  hautboys,  at- 
tended by  all  the  mob  of  the  town,  entered  the  court. 
The  landlord,  being  asked  the  reason  of  these  great 
preparations,  acquainted  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont 
that  they  were  for  the  wedding  of  one  of  the  most 
wealthy  gentlemen  in  the  neighborhood,  with  one  of 
the  handsomest  girls  in  the  whole  province;  that  the 
entertainment  was  to  be  at  his  house;  and  that,  if  his 
lordship  chose  to  stop,  in  a  very  short  time  he  would 
see  the  new-married  couple  arrive  from  the  church, 
since  the  music  was  already  come.  He  was  right  in 
his  conjectures ;  for  these  words  were  scarce  out  of  his 
mouth,  when  three  uncommonly  large  coaches,  loaded 
with  lackeys,  as  tall  as  Swiss,1  with  most  gaudy  liv- 
eries, all  covered  with  lace,  appeared  in  the  court,  and 
disembarked  the  whole  wedding  company.  Never  was 
country  magnificence  more  naturally  displayed.  Rusty 
tinsel,  tarnished  lace,  striped  silk,  little  eyes,  and  full 
swelling  breasts,  appeared  on  every  side. 

If  the  first  sight  of  the  procession  surprised  the 
Chevalier  de  Gramont,  faithful  Termes  was  no  less 
astonished  at  the  second.  The  little  that  was  to  be 
seen  of  the  bride's  face  appeared  not  without  beauty; 
but  no  judgment  could  be  formed  of  the  remainder. 
Four  dozen  patches,  at  least,  and  ten  ringlets  of  hair, 
on  each  side,  most  completely  concealed  her  from  all 
human  eyes ;  but  it  was  the  bridegroom  who  most  par- 
ticularly attracted  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont's  atten- 
tion. 

He  was  as  ridiculously  dressed  as  the  rest  of  the 
company,  except  a  coat  of  the  greatest  magnificence, 
1  Swiss  Guards  (Vizetelly). 


334       THE   COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

and  of  the  most  exquisite  taste.  The  Chevalier  de 
Gramont,  walking  up  to  him  to  examine  his  dress, 
began  to  commend  the  embroidery  of  his  coat.  The 
bridegroom  thought  himself  much  honoured  by  this 
examination,  and  told  him  he  bought  it  for  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  louis,  at  the  time  he  was  paying  his 
addresses  to  his  wife.  "Then  you  did  not  get  it  made 
here  ?"  said  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont.  "No,"  replied 
the  other;  "I  bought  it  of  a  London  merchant,  who 
had  ordered  it  for  an  English  lord."  The  Chevalier 
de  Gramont,  who  now  began  to  perceive  in  what  man- 
ner the  adventure  would  end,  asked  him  if  he  would 
recollect  the  merchant  if  he  saw  him  again?  "Recol- 
lect him !"  replied  the  other,  "I  surely  ought ;  for  I  was 
obliged  to  sit  up  drinking  with  him  all  night  at  Calais, 
while  I  was  endeavouring  to  beat  down  the  price." 
Termes  had  vanished  out  of  sight  as  soon  as  ever  this 
coat  appeared,  though  he  little  supposed  that  the  cursed 
bridegroom  would  have  any  conversation  with  his  mas- 
ter concerning  it. 

The  Chevalier's  thoughts  were  some  time  wavering 
between  his  inclination  to  laugh,  and  a  desire  for  hang- 
ing Master  Termes;  but  the  long  habit  of  suffering 
himself  to  be  robbed  by  his  domestics,  together  with 
the  vigilance  of  the  criminal,  whom  his  master  could 
not  reproach  with  having  slept  in  his  service,  inclined 
him  to  clemency;  and  yielding  to  the  importunities 
of  the  country  gentleman,  in  order  to  confound  his 
faithful  servant,  he  sat  down  to  table,  to  make  the 
thirty-seventh  of  the  company. 

A  short  time  after,  he  desired  one  of  the  waiters1 
to  call  for  a  gentleman  whose  name  was  Termes.  He 
immediately  apoeared;  and  as  soon  as  the  master  of 
the  feast  saw  him,  he  rose  from  table,  and  offering 
him  his  hand :  "Welcome,  my  friend,"  said  he ;  "you 
'Servants  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  335 

see  that  I  have  taken  good  care  of  the  coat  which  you 
sold  me  with  so  much  reluctance,  and  that  I  have  kept 
it  for  a  good  purpose." 

Termes,  having  put  on  a  face  of  brass,  pretended 
not  to  know  him,  and  pushed  him  back  with  some 
degree  of  rudeness.  "No,  no!"  said  the  other;  "since 
I  was  obliged  to  sit  up  with  you  the  whole  night,  in 
order  to  strike  the  bargain,  you  shall  pledge  me  in  the 
bride's  health."  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  who  saw 
that  Termes  was  disconcerted,  notwithstanding  his  im- 
pudence, said  to  him  with  a  smile :  "Come,  come,  my 
good  London  merchant,  sit  down,  as  you  are  so  civilly 
invited :  we  are  not  so  crowded  at  table  but  that  there 
will  be  room  enough  for  such  an  honest  gentleman  as 
yourself."  At  these  words  five-and-thirty  of  the  guests 
were  in  motion  to  receive  this  new  visitor :  the  bride 
alone,  out  of  an  idea  of  decorum,  remained  seated; 
and  the  audacious  Termes,  having  swallowed  the  first 
shame  of  this  adventure,  began  to  lay  about  him  at 
such  a  rate,  as  if  it  had  been  his  intention  to  swallow 
all  the  wine  provided  for  the  wedding,  if  his  master 
had  not  risen  from  the  table  as  they  were  taking  off 
four-and-twenty  soups,  to  serve  up  as  many  other 
dishes1  in  their  stead. 

The  company  were  not  so  unreasonable  as  to  desire 
a  man  who  was  in  such  haste  to  remain  to  the  end  of 
a  wedding  dinner;  but  they  all  got  up  when  he  arose 
from  table,  and  all  that  he  could  obtain  from  the 
bridegroom  was  that  the  company  should  not  attend 
him  to  the  gate  of  the  inn.  As  for  Termes,  he  wished 
they  had  not  quitted  him  till  the  end  of  their  journey, 
so  much  did  he  dread  being  left  alone  with  his  master. 

They  had  advanced  some  distance  from  Abbeville, 
and  were  proceeding  on  in  the  most  profound  silence, 
when  Termes,  who  expected  an  end  to  it  in  a  short 
'Entrees  (Vizetelly). 


336       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

time,  was  only  solicitous  in  what  manner  it  might 
happen,  whether  his  master  would  attack  him  with  a 
torrent  of  invectives,  and  certain  epithets  which  were 
most  justly  his  due,  or  whether,  in  an  insulting,  iron- 
ical manner,  he  might  make  use  of  such  commenda- 
tions as  were  most  likely  to  confound  him ;  but  finding 
instead  of  either,  that  he  remained  in  sullen  silence,  he 
thought  it  prudent  rather  to  prevent  the  speech  the 
Chevalier  was  meditating  than  to  suffer  him  to  think 
longer  about  it;  and,  accordingly,  arming  himself  with 
all  his  effrontery:  "You  seem  to  be  very  angry,  Sir," 
said  he,  "and  I  suppose  you  think  you  have  reason  for 
being  so ;  but  the  devil  take  me,  if  you  are  not  mistaken 
,  in  reality." 

"How!  traitor!  in  reality!"  said  the  Chevalier  de 
Gramont.  "It  is  then  because  I  have  not  had  thee 
well  thrashed,  as  thou  hast  for  a  long  time  merited." 
"Look  ye,  Sir,"  replied  Termes,  "you  always  run  into 
a  passion,  instead  of  listening  to  reason !  Yes,  Sir,  I 
maintain  that  what  I  did  was  for  your  benefit."  "And 
was  not  the  quicksand  likewise  for  my  service?"  said 
the  Chevalier  de  Gramont.  "Have  patience,  if  you 
please,"  pursued  the  other.  "I  know  not  how  that 
simpleton  of  a  bridegroom  happened  to  be  at  the  cus- 
tom-house when  my  portmanteau  was  examined  at 
Calais;  but  these  silly  cuckolds  thrust  in  their  noses 
everywhere.  As  soon  as  ever  he  saw  your  coat,  he  fell 
in  love  with  it.  I  immediately  perceived  he  was  a 
fool ;  for  he  fell  down  upon  his  knees,  beseeching  me 
to  sell  it  him.  Besides  being  greatly  rumpled  in  the 
portmanteau,  it  was  all  stained  in  front  by  the  sweat  of 
the  horses.  I  wonder  how  the  devil  he  has  managed  to 
get  it  cleaned;  but,  faith,  I  am  the  greatest  scoundrel 
in  the  world,  if  you  would  ever  have  put  it  on.  In  a 
word,  it  cost  you  one  hundred  and  forty  louis  d'ors, 
and  seeing  he  offered  me  one  hundred  and  fifty  for  it : 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  337 

'My  master/  said  I,  'has  no  occasion  for  this  tinselled 
bauble  to  distinguish  him  at  the  ball;  and,  although 
he  was  pretty  full  of  cash  when  I  left  him,  how  know  1 
in  what  situation  he  may  be  upon  my  return?  there  is 
no  certainty  at  play.  To  be  brief,  Sir,  I  got  ten  louis 
d'ors  for  it  more  than  it  cost  you :  this  you  see  is  all 
clear  profit.  I  will  be  accountable  to  you  for  it,  and 
you  know  that  I  am  sufficiently  substantial  to  make 
good  such  a  sum.  Confess  now,  do  you  think  you 
would  have  appeared  to  greater  advantage  at  the  ball, 
if  you  had  been  dressed  out  in  that  damned  coat,  which 
would  have  made  you  look  just  like  the  village  bride- 
groom to  whom  we  sold  it  ?  and  yet  how  you  stormed 
at  London  when  you  thought  it  lost ;  what  fine  stories 
you  told  the  King  about  the  quicksand ;  and  how  churl- 
ish you  looked,  when  you  first  began  to  suppose  that 
this  country  looby  wore  it  at  his  wedding!" 

What  could  the  Chevalier  reply  to  such  impudence? 
If  he  indulged  his  resentment,  he  must  either  have 
most  severely  bastinadoed*  him,  or  he  must  have  dis- 
carded him,  as  the  easiest  escape  the  rogue  could  ex- 
pect ;  but  he  had  occasion  for  him  during  the  remainder 
of  his  journey;  and,  as  soon  as  he  was  at  Paris,  he 
had  occasion  for  him  for  his  return. 

The  Marechal  de  Gramont  had  no  sooner  notice  of 
his  arrival  than  he  went  to  him  at  the  hotel ;  and,  the 
first  embraces  being  over  on  both  sides:  "Chevalier," 
said  the  Marechal,  "how  many  days  have  you  been  in 
coming  from  London  hither?  for  God  knows  at  what  a 
rate  you  travel  on  such  occasions."  The  Chevalier  told 
him  he  had  been  three  days  upon  the  road;  and,  to 
excuse  himself  for  making  no  more  haste,  he  related  to 
him  his  Abbeville  adventure.  "It  is  a  very  entertain- 
ing one,"  said  his  brother;  "but  what  is  yet  more 
entertaining  is,  that  it  will  be  your  fault  if  you  do  not 

'Thrashed  (Vizetelly). 


338       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

find  your  coat  still  at  table;  for  the  country  gentry 
are  not  accustomed  to  rise  very  soon  from  a  wedding 
dinner."  And  then,  in  a  very  serious  tone,  told  him, 
"he  knew  not  who  had  advised  him  to  this  unexpected 
return,  which  might  probably  ruin  all  his  affairs ;  but 
he  had  orders  from  the  King  to  bid  him  go  back  again 
without  appearing  at  Court.  He  told  him  afterwards 
that  he  was  very  much  astonished  at  his  impatience,  as, 
up  to  this  time,  he  had  conducted  himself  uncommonly 
well,  and  was  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  King's 
temper  to  know  that  the  only  way  to  merit  his  pardon 
was  to  wait  until  it  freely  came  from  his  clemency." 

The  Chevalier,  in  justification  of  his  conduct,  pro- 
duced Madame  de  Saint-Chaumont's  letter,  and  told 
the  Marechal  that  he  would  very  willingly  have  spared 
her  the  trouble  of  writing  him  such  kind  of  news,  to 
occasion  him  so  useless  a  journey.  "Still  more  indis- 
cretion," replied  his  brother ;  "for,  pray  how  long  has 
our  sister  been  either  secretary  of  state  or  minister, 
that  she  should  be  employed  by  the  King  to  make 
known  his  Majesty's  order?  Do  you  wish  to  know  the 
real  state  of  the  case?  Some  time  ago  the  King  told 
Madame*  how  you  had  refused  the  pension  the  King 

5  Henrietta,  youngest  daughter  o '  Charles  I.,  born  at  Exeter 
i6th  June  1644,  from  whence  she  was  removed  to  Oatlands 
Palace  in  1646,  her  governess,  Lady  Dalkeith,1  soon  afterwards 
conveying  her  secretly  to  France.  She  came  over  to  England 
with  her  mother  in  September  1660,  but  returned  to  France  the 
following  January,  and  was  married  to  Philip,  Duke  of  Orleans, 
only  brother  of  Louis  XIV.,  on  the  30th  March  1661.  In  May 
1670  she  came  again  to  Dover  to  transact  the  well-known  Secret 
Treaty  between  Charles  and  Louis  XIV.  She  died  suddenly  soon 
after  her  return  to  France  in  the  following  month,  not  without 
suspicion  of  having  been  poisoned  by  her  husband.  King  James, 
in  his  Diary,  says:  "It  was  suspected  that  counter-poisons  were 
given  her ;  but  when  she  was  opened,  in  the  presence  of  the 
English  Ambassador,  the  Earl  of  Ailesbury,  an  English  physician 
and  surgeon,  there  appeared  no  grounds  of  suspicion  of  any 

1  Anne,  daughter  of  Sir  Edward  Villiers,  and  wife  of  Robert  Douglas,  Lord 
Dalkeitb. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  339 

of  England  offered  you :  he  appeared  pleased  with  the 
manner  in  which  Comminges  had  related  to  him  the 
circumstances  attending  it,  and  said  he  was  pleased 
with  you  for  it.  Madame  interpreted  this  as  an  order 
for  your  recall ;  and  Madame  de  Saint-Chaumont  being 
very  far  from  possessing  that  wonderful  discretion  she 
imagines  herself  mistress  of,  she  hastened  to  despatch 
to  you  this  consequential  order  in  her  own  hand.  To 
conclude  :  Madame  said  yesterday,  when  the  King  was 
at  dinner,  that  you  would  very  soon  be  here ;  and  the 
King,  as  soon  as  dinner  was  over,  commanded  me  to 
send  you  back  as  soon  as  you  arrived.  Here  you  are ; 
set  off  again  immediately." 

This  order  might  have  appeared  severe  to  the  Chev- 
alier de  Gramont  at  any  other  time ;  but,  in  the  present 
state  of  his  heart,  he  soon  resolved  upon  obeying. 
Nothing  gave  him  uneasiness  but  the  officious  advice 
which  had  obliged  him  to  leave  the  English  Court; 
and  being  entirely  unconcerned  that  he  was  not  allowed 
to  see  the  French  Court  before  his  departure,  he  only 
desired  the  Marechal  to  obtain  leave  for  him  to  stay  a 
few  days  to  collect  in  some  play  debts  which  were 
owing  to  him.  This  request  was  granted,  on  condition 
that  he  should  not  remain  in  Paris. 

He  chose  Vaugirard"  for  his  retreat.  It  was  there 
that  he  had  several  adventures  which  he  so  often  re- 
foul  play.  Yet  Bucks  talked  openly  that  she  was  poisoned;  and 
was  so  violent  as  to  propose  to  foreign  ministers  to  make  war 
on  France"  (Macpherson's  Original  Papers,  vol.  i.).  At  the 
end  of  Lord  Arlington's  Letters  are  five  very  remarkable  ones 
from  a  person  of  quality,  who  is  said  to  have  been  actually  on 
the  spot,  giving  a  particular  relation  of  h'er  death.  Madame  de 
Montespan,  in  her  Memoirs,  does  not  hesitate  to  express  her 
opinion  that  the  Princess  was  poisoned.  There  is  however  but 
little  doubt  that  she  died  of  peritonitis  (vide  Anatole  France's 
edition  of  Madame  de  la  Fayette's  Histoire  d'Henriette  d'Angle- 
terre,  1882;  and  Madame,  by  Julia  Cartwright,  1894). 

8  At  this  time  a  small  village  beyond  the  limits  of  the  city  of 
Paris  (see  Vizetelly's  edition,  vol.  ii.  p.  168). 


340       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

lated  in  so  humorous  and  diverting  a  manner,  that  it 
would  be  tedious  to  repeat  them;  there  it  was  that  he 
administered  the  sacrament  in  so  solemn  a  manner, 
that,  as  there  did  not  remain  a  sufficient  number  of 
Swiss  at  Versailles  to  guard  the  chapel,  Vardes7  was 
obliged  to  acquaint  the  King  that  they  were  all  gone 
to  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  who  was  administering 
the  sacrament  at  Vaugirard;  there  likewise  happened 
that  wonderful  adventure  which  threw  the  first  slur 
upon  the  reputation  of  the  great  Saucourt,  when,  hav- 
ing a  tete-a-tete  with  the  gardener's  daughter,  the 
horn,  which  was  agreed  upon  as  the  signal  to  prevent 
surprises,  was  sounded  so  often,  that  the  frequent 
alarms  cooled  the  courage  of  the  celebrated  Saucourt," 
and  rendered  useless  the  assignation  that  was  procured 
for  him  with  one  of  the  prettiest  girls  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. It  was,  likewise,  during  his  stay  at  Vaugirard, 
that  he  paid  a  visit  to  Mademoiselle  de  1'Hopital  at 
Issy,9  to  inquire  into  the  truth  of  a  report  of  an  amour 
between  her  and  a  man  of  the  long  robe ;  and  it  was 
there  that,  on  his  arriving  unexpectedly,  the  President 
de  Maisons10  was  forced  to  take  refuge  in  a  closet,  with 
so  much  precipitation,  that  half  of  his  robe  remained 
on  the  outside  when  he  shut  the  door ;  while  the  Chev- 
alier de  Gramont,  who  observed  it,  made  his  visit  ex- 
cessively long,  in  order  to  keep  the  two  lovers  upon 
the  rack. 

His  business  being  settled,  he  set  out  for  England  on 
the  wings  of  love.  Termes  redoubled  his  vigilance 
upon  the  road.  The  post  horses  were  ready  in  an 
instant  at  every  stage;  the  winds  and  tides  favoured 

7  Marquis  de  Vardes,  Captain  of  the  Swiss  Guard. 

8  Marquis  de  Soyecourt. 

9  A   fashionable   locality   in   the    seventeenth   century,  on    the 
road  to  Versailles  (Vizetelly,  ii.  p.  188). 

10Ren£   Longueil    de    Maisons,    President   of   the    Parliament, 
whose  daughter  married  Soyecourt  (ibid.). 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  341 

his  impatience ;  and  he  reached  London  with  the  high- 
est satisfaction.  The  Court  was  both  surprised  and 
charmed  at  his  sudden  return.  No  person  condoled 
with  him  upon  his  late  disappointment,  which  had  occa- 
sioned him  to  come  back,  as  he  testified  no  manner  of 
uneasiness  concerning  it  himself ;  nor  was  Miss  Ham- 
ilton in  the  least  displeased  at  his  readiness  in  obeying 
the  orders  of  the  King,  his  master. 

Nothing  new  had  happened  in  the  English  Court 
during  his  short  absence;  but  it  assumed  a  different 
aspect  soon  after  his  return :  I  mean  with  respect  to 
love  and  pleasure,  which  were  the  most  serious  con- 
cerns of  the  Court  during  the  greatest  part  of  this  gay 
reign. 

The  Duke  of  Monmouth,11  natural  son  to  Charles  the 
Second,  now  made  his  first  appearance  in  his  father's 

"James  Crofts,  who  took  the  name  of  Scott  (upon  his  mar- 
riage with  the  heiress  to  the  Earldom  of  Buccleuch  in  1663), 
generally  acknowledged  to  be  son  of  Charles  II.,  though  certain 
accounts  give  the  paternity  to  Colonel  Robert  Sidney,  brother 
to  the  "handsome  Sidney"  who  figures  in  these  Memoirs.  Mon- 
mouth's  mother,  a  beautiful  Welsh  woman,  who  passed  by  the 
name  of  Mrs.  Barlow,  though  her  real  name  was  Lucy  Walter, 
was  far  from  faithful  to  her  royal  protector.  She  was  therefore 
left  to  follow  her  own  downward  course,  but  not  until  her  son 
had  been  forcibly  taken  from  his  mother's  protection.  He  was 
then  placed  under  the  care  of  Lord  Crofts  (who  also  figures  in 
the  Memoirs}  and  the  Queen  Mother.  Lucy  Walter  did  not  live 
to  see  the  Restoration.  Honours,  titles,  and  riches  were  lavished 
upon  her  son  by  the  King,  who  always  had  a  sincere  affection  for 
him,  and  secretly  protected  him,  while  openly  he  had  to  defend 
his  own  brother's  interests.  Monmouth's  rash  acts  threw  him 
continually  into  disgrace  at  Court.  His  handsome  appearance 
made  him  generally  a  favourite,  but  his  weakness  of  character, 
an  easy  foil  for  the  most  dangerous  political  intriguers.  Such 
crafty  statesmen  as  Shaftesbury,  and  still  more  dangerous  com- 
panions, as  Lord  Grey  and  James  Ferguson,  used  the  weak- 
minded  Duke  mainly  for  their  own  ends,  which  ultimately  re- 
sulted in  his  ruin.  But  that  Monmouth  was  guilty  of  any  knowl- 
edge of  the  murder  scheme  in  the  Rye  House  Plot,  except  with 
a  view  to  frustrate  it,  must  not  be  entertained.  For  further 
particulars  of  his  career,  the  insurrection,  Sedgemoor  fight,  etc., 
vide  King  Monmouth. 


342        THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

Court.  His  entrance  upon  the  stage  of  the  world  was 
so  brilliant,  his  ambition  had  occasioned  so  many  con- 
siderable events,  and  the  particulars  of  his  tragical  end 
are  so  recent,  that  it  were  needless  to  produce  any 
other  traits  to  give  a  sketch  of  his  character.  By  the 
whole  tenor  of  his  life,  he  appeared  to  be  rash  in  his 
undertakings,  irresolute  in  the  execution,  and  dejected 
in  his  misfortunes,  in  which,  at  least,  an  undaunted 
resolution  ought  to  equal  the  greatness  of  the  attempt. 

His  figure  and  the  exterior  graces  of  his  person  were 
such,  that  nature  perhaps  never  formed  anything  more 
complete.  His  face  was  extremely  handsome ;  and  yet 
it  was  a  manly  face,  neither  inanimate  nor  effeminate, 
each  feature  having  its  beauty  and  peculiar  delicacy. 
He  had  a  wonderful  genius  for  every  sort  of  exercise, 
an  engaging  aspect,  and  an  air  of  grandeur :  in  a  word, 
he  possessed  every  personal  advantage;  but  then  he 
was  greatly  deficient  in  mental  accomplishments.  He 
had  no  sentiments  but  such  as  others  inspired  him 
with;  and  those  who  first  insinuated  themselves  into 
his  friendship  took  care  to  inspire  him  with  none  but 
such  as  were  pernicious.  The  astonishing  beauty  of 
his  outward  form  caused  universal  admiration:  those 
who  before  were  looked  upon  as  handsome  were  now 
entirely  forgotten  at  Court ;  and  all  the  gay  and  beau- 
tiful of  the  fair  sex  were  at  his  devotion.12  He  was 
particularly  beloved  by  the  King ;  but  the  universal  ter- 
ror of  husbands  and  lovers.  This,  however,  did  not 
long  continue ;  for  nature  not  having  endowed  him  with 
qualifications  to  secure  the  possession  of  the  heart,  the 
fair  sex  soon  perceived  the  defect. 

The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  was  out  of  humour  with 

the  King,  because  the  children  she  had  by  his  Majesty 

were  like  so  many  little  puppets  compared  to  this  new 

Adonis.     She  was  the  more  particularly  hurt,  as  she 

"Service  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  343 

might  have  boasted  of  being  the  queen  of  love,  in  com- 
parison with  the  Duke's  mother.13  The  King,  however, 
laughed  at  her  reproaches,  as,  for  some  time,  she  had 
certainly  no  right  to  make  any;  and,  as  this  piece  of 
jealousy  appeared  to  be  more  ill  founded  than  any  she 
had  formerly  affected,  no  person  approved  of  her 
ridiculous  resentment.  Not  succeeding  in  this,  she 
formed  another  scheme  to  give  the  King  uneasiness. 
Instead  of  opposing  his  extreme  tenderness  for  his 
son,  she  pretended  to  adopt  him,  in  her  affection,  by  a 
thousand  commendations  and  caresses,  which  she  was 
daily  and  continually  increasing.  As  these  endear- 
ments were  public,  she  imagined  they  could  not  be 
suspected,  but  she  was  too  well  known  for  her  real 
design  to  be  mistaken.  The  King  was  no  longer  jeal- 
ous of  her;  but,  as  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  was  of  an 
age  not  to  be  insensible  to  the  attractions  of  a  woman 
possessing  so  many  charms,  he  thought  it  proper  to 
withdraw  him  from  this  pretended  mother-in-law,"  to 
preserve  his  innocence,  or  at  least  his  fame,  uncon- 
taminated :  it  was  for  this  reason,  therefore,  that  the 
King  married  him  so  young." 

An  heiress  of  five  thousand  pound  a-year  in  Scot- 
land18 offered  very  apropos;  her  person  was  full  of 
charms,  and  her  mind  possessed  all  those  perfections  in 
which  the  handsome  Monmouth  was  deficient. 

13  Lucy  Walter.  For  particulars  of  her  career,  vide  King  Mon- 
mouth. "Step-mother  (Vizetelly). 

"There  is  no  truth  in  this  assertion,  as  Monmouth's  marriage 
had  been  thought  of  a  year  before  his  appearance  in  England, 
viz.  in  1661  (vide  King  Monmouth,  p.  31). 

18  Lady  Anne,  daughter  and  sole  heir  of  Francis  Scott,  second 
Earl  of  Buccleuch,  was  aged  eleven  in  June  1662,  when  she  was 
brought  to  London  by  her  mother,  the  Countess  of  Wemyss.  The 
marriage  was  solemnised  in  the  following  year,  when  Monmouth, 
in  addition  to  Earl  of  Doncaster  and  Baron  Tynedale,  was  cre- 
ated Duke  of  Buccleuch,  Earl  of  Dalkeith,  and  Lord  Scott,  he 
being  her  senior  by  two  years.  A  re-grant  of  the  titles  was  made 
i6th  January  1666,  enjoining  that  either  Monmouth  or  his  wife 


344       THE    COURT    OF   CHARLES    II 

New  festivals  and  entertainments  celebrated  this 
marriage."  The  most  effectual  method  to  pay  court  to 
the  King  was  to  outshine  the  rest  in  brilliancy  and 
grandeur;  and  whilst  these  rejoicings  brought  forward 
all  manner  of  gallantry  and  magnificence,  they  either 
revived  old,  or  established  new  amours. 

The  fair  Stewart,  then  in  the  meridian  of  her  glory, 
attracted  all  eyes,  and  commanded  universal  respect 
ind  admiration.  The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  endeav- 
oured to  eclipse  her  at  this  fete,  by  a  load  of  jewels, 
and  by  all  the  artificial  ornaments  of  dress ;  but  it  was 
in  vain :  her  face  looked  rather  thin  and  pale,  from 
the  commencement  of  a  third  or  fourth  pregnancy, 
which  the  King  was  still  pleased  to  place  to  his  own  ac- 
count; and,  as  for  the  rest,  her  person  could  in  no 
respect  stand  in  competition  with  the  grace  and  beauty 
of  Miss  Stewart. 

It  was  during  this  last  effort  of  her  charms,  that 
she1*  would  have  been  queen  of  England,  had  the  King 
been  as  free  to  give  his  hand  as  he  was  to  surrender 
his  heart;  for  it  was  at  this  time  that  the  Duke  of 
Richmond  took  it  into  his  head  either  to  marry  her,  or 
to  die  in  the  attempt. 

should  be  independent  in  the  event  of  the  death  of  one  of  them ; 
thus  when  Monmouth  was  executed  in  1685,  the  title  of  Duke 
of  Buccleuch  could  not  be  revived  until  1732,  when  her  death 
occurred.  In  that  year  the  successor,  Francis  (grandson  of 
Monmouth),  also  took  the  title  of  Earl  of  Doncaster  and  Baron 
Tynedale,  which  had  become  extinct  in  1685.  The  title  of  Duke 
of  Monmouth  was  not  revived. 

After  the  decease  of  her  husband,  the  Duchess  of  Monmouth 
married  (in  1688)  Charles,  third  Lord  Cornwallis  (ob.  1693), 
by  whom  she  had  a  son  and  two  daughters.  There  were  several 
children  by  the  first  marriage.  According  to  Luttrell  she  was 
married  for  a  third  time  in  1703  to  the  Earl  of  Selkirk,  brother 
of  the  Duke  of  Hamilton. 

In  1685  the  private  fortune  of  the  Duchess  of  Monmouth  was 
so  far  impoverished  that  an  annuity  from  the  Crown  was  settled 
upon  her.  For  further  particulars,  vide  King  Monmouth. 

u2Oth  April  1663.  "Frances  Stewart. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  345 

A  few  months  after  the  celebration  of  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth's  nuptials,  Killegrew,19  having  nothing  bet- 
ter to  do,  fell  in  love  with  Lady  Shrewsbury ;  and,  as 
Lady  Shrewsbury,  by  a  very  extraordinary  chance,  had 
no  engagement  at  that  time,  their  amour  was  soon 
established.  No  one  thought  of  interrupting  an  inti- 
macy which  did  not  concern  any  one;  but  Killegrew 
thought  proper  to  disturb  it  himself.  Not  that  his 
happiness  fell  short  of  his  expectation,  nor  did  pos- 
session put  him  out  of  love  with  a  situation  so  envi- 
able; but  he  was  amazed  that  he  was  not  envied,  and 
offended  that  his  good  fortune  raised  him  no  rivals. 

He  possessed  a  great  deal  of  wit,  and  still  more 
eloquence,  which  most  particularly  displayed  itself 
when  he  was  a  little  elevated  with  the  juice  of  the 
grape:  he  then  indulged  himself  in  giving  luxurious 
descriptions  of  Lady  Shrewsbury's  most  secret  charms 
and  beauties,  which  above  half  the  Court  were  as  well 
acquainted  with  as  himself. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham  was  one  of  those  who 
could  only  judge  from  outward  appearances ;  and  ap- 
pearances, in  his  opinion,  did  not  seem  to  promise 
anything  so  exquisite  as  the  extravagant  praises  of 
Killegrew  would  infer.  As  this  indiscreet  lover  was  a 
frequent  guest  at  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  table,  he 
was  continually  employing  his  rhetoric  on  this  subject, 
and  he  had  full  opportunity  for  his  harangues;  for 
they  generally  sat  down  to  dinner  at  four  o'clock,20  and 
only  rose  just  in  time  for  the  play  in  the  evening. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  whose  ears  were  continu- 
ally deafened21  with  descriptions  of  Lady  Shrewsbury's 
merits,  resolved  at  last  to  examine  into  the  truth  of 
the  matter  himself.  As  soon  as  he  had  made  the  ex- 
periment, he  was  satisfied ;  and,  though  he  fancied  that 

19  Henry  Killigrew  (see  ante,  footnote,  p.  178). 

20  In  the  morning  (Vizetelly).  a  Dinned  (Vizetelly). 


346        THE    COURT    OF    CHARLES    II 

fame  did  not  exceed  the  truth,  yet  this  intrigue  began 
in  such  a  manner,  that  it  was  generally  believed  its 
duration  would  be  short,  considering  the  fickleness  of 
both  parties,  and  the  vivacity  with  which  they  had  en- 
gaged in  it;  nevertheless,  no  amour  in  England  ever 
continued  so  long. 

The  imprudent  Killegrew,  who  could  not  be  satis- 
fied without  rivals,  was  obliged,  in  the  end,  to  be 
satisfied  without  a  mistress.  This  he  bore  very  im- 
patiently; but  so  far  was  Lady  Shrewsbury  from 
listening  to,  or  affording  any  redress  for  the  griev- 
ances at  first  complained  of,  that  she  even  pretended 
not  to  know  him.  His  spirit  could  not  brook  such 
treatment;  and,  without  ever  considering  that  he  was 
the  author  of  his  own  disgrace,  he  let  loose  all  his 
abusive  eloquence  against  her  ladyship.  He  attacked 
her  with  the  most  bitter  invectives  from  head  to  foot ; 
he  drew  a  frightful  picture  of  her  conduct ;  and  turned 
all  her  personal  charms,  which  he  used  to  extol,  into 
defects.  He  was  privately  warned  of  the  inconveni- 
ences to  which  these  declamations  might  subject  him, 
but  despised  the  advice,  and,  persisting,  he  soon  had 
reason  to  repent  it. 

As  he  was  returning  one  evening  from  the  Duke  of 
York's  apartments  at  St.  James's,  three  passes  with  a 
sword  were  made  at  him  through  his  chair,  one  of 
which  went  entirely  through  his  arm.  Upon  this,  he 
was  sensible"  of  the  danger  to  which  his  intemperate 
tongue  had  exposed  him,  over  and  above  the  loss  of 
his  mistress.  The  assassins  made  their  escape  across 
the  Park,  not  doubting  but  they  had  despatched  him." 

^Pepys,  alluding  to  this  affair,  says  (iQth  May  1669)  :  "Here 
the  news  was  first  talked  of  Harry  Killigrew's  being  wounded  i 
nine  places  last  night  by  footmen  in  the  highway  going  from 
the  Park  in  a  hackney-coach  towards  Hammersmith  to  his  house 
in  Turnham  Green ;  they  being  supposed  to  be  my  Lady  Shrews- 
bury's men,  she  being  by  in  her  coach  with  six  horses ;  upon  an 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  347 

Killegrew  thought  that  all  complaints  would  be 
useless ;  for  what  redress  from  justice  could  he  expect 
for  an  attempt  of  which  his  wounds  were  his  only 
evidence?  And,  besides,  he  was  convinced  that  if  he 
began  a  prosecution  founded  upon  appearances  and 
conjectures,  the  parties  concerned  would  take  the 
shortest  and  most  effectual  means  to  put  a  stop  to  all 
inquiries  upon  the  subject,  and  that  their  second 
attempt  would  not  prove  ineffectual.  Being  desirous, 
therefore,  of  deserving  mercy  from  those  who  had 
endeavoured  to  assassinate  him,  he  no  longer  con- 
tinued his  satires,  and  said  not  a  word  of  the  ad- 
venture. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham  and  Lady  Shrewsbury 
remained  for  a  long  period  both  happy  and  con- 
tented. Never  before  had  her  constancy  been  of  so 
long  a  duration;  nor  had  he  ever  been  so  submissive 
and  respectful  a  lover. 

old  grudge  of  his  saying  openly  that  he  had  lain  with  her  .  .  . 
his  man  is  quite  dead,  and  [Buckingham]  there  in  discourse  did 
say  that  he  had  spoke  with  someone  that  was  by  (which  all  the 
world  must  know  that  it  must  be  his  friend,  my  Lady  Shrews- 
bury), who  says  that  they  did  not  mean  to  hurt,  but  beat  him, 
and  that  he  did  run  first  at  them  with  his  sword ;  so  that  he  do 
hereby  clearly  discover  that  he  knows  who  did  it  and  is  of  con- 
spiracy with  them,  bein^  of  known  conspiracy  with  her." 

Some  further  particulars  may  be  gathered  from  a  letter  from 
the  French  ambassador  Colbert  to  the  minister  Lionne,  on  20th 
May.  "Infuriated  against  Killigrew,"  he  says,  "because  he 
boasted  she  had  denied  him  no  favour,  the  Countess  nursed  her 
anger  against  him  until  she  could  wreak  vengeance.  She  was 
able  to  do  this  yesterday.  Killigrew  had  arranged  to  visit  her  at 
her  house,  which  is  six  miles  from  London.  He  went  alone  in 
a  coach,  and  on  the  way  fell  asleep.  He  was  awoke  by  a 
thrust  of  a  sword,  which  pierced  his  neck  and  came  out  at  the 
shoulder.  Before  he  could  cry  out  he  was  flung  from  the  vehicle 
and  stabbed  in  three  other  places  by  the  varlets  of  the  Countess. 
The  lady  herself  looked  on  from  her  coach  and  six,  in  which 
she  was  with  her  three  daughters,  and  cried  out  to  the  assas- 
sins, 'Kill  the  villain.'  Nor  did  she  drive  off  until  he  was 
thought  dead.  He  was  but  badly  wounded  and  has  sworn  infer- 
tnations." 


348       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

This  continued  until  Lord  Shrewsbury,"  who  never 
before  had  shown  the  least  uneasiness  at  his  lady's 
misconduct,  thought  proper  to  resent  this.  It  was 
public  enough,  indeed,  but  less  dishonourable  to  her 
than  any  of  her  former  intrigues.  Poor  Lord  Shrews- 
bury, too  polite  a  man  to  make  any  reproaches  to  his 
wife,  was  resolved  to  have  redress  for  his  injured 
honour.  He  accordingly  challenged  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham;  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  as  a 
reparation  for  his  honour,  having  killed  him  upon  the 
spot,  remained  a  peaceable  possessor  of  this  famous 
Helen.  The  public  was  at  first  shocked  at  the  trans- 
action ;  but  the  public  grows  familiar  with  everything 
by  habit,  and  by  degrees  both  decency,  and  even  virtue 
itself,  are  rendered  tame,  and  overcome.1*  The  Queen 

*  Francis,  eleventh  Earl  of  Shrewsbury.  Reresby,  in  his  Me~ 
moirs,  mentions  (2oth  June  1666)  how  the  intrigue  between  Buck- 
ingham and  the  Countess  first  became  known  to  the  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  at  York,  where  Buckingham  was  entertaining  a  house 
party.  The  Countess's  brother,  Lord  Brudenel,  was  sent  for  very 
late  at  night  to  act  as  mediator  between  them,  there  having  been 
"  a  great  quarrel  of  jealousy." 

**  Regarding  the  notorious  duel  Pepys  says,  I7th  January  1667-8: 
"  Much  discourse  of  a  duel  yesterday  between  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, Holmes,  and  one  Jenkins,  on  one  side,  and  my  Lord  of 
Shrewsbury,  Sir  John  Talbot,  and  one  Bernard  Howard,  on  the 
other  side,  and  all  about  my  Lady  Shrewsbury,  who  is  at  this 
time  and  hath  for  a  great  while  been  a  mistress  to  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham.  And  so  her  husband  challenged  him,  and  they 
met  yesterday  in  a  close  near  Barne  Elmes,  and  there  fought; 
and  my  Lord  Shrewsbury  is  run  through  the  body,  from  the 
right  breast  through  the  shoulder ;  and  Sir  John  Talbot  all  along, 
up  one  of  his  arms;  and  Jenkins  killed  upon  the  place,  and  the 
rest  all  in  a  little  measure  wounded.  This  will  make  the  world 
think  that  the  King  hath  good  councillors  about  him,  when  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  the  greatest  man  about  him,  is  a  fellow 
of  no  more  sobriety  than  to  fight  about  a  mistress.  And  this 
may  prove  a  very  bad  accident  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  but 
that  my  Lady  Castlemaine  do  rule  all  at  this  time  as  much  as 
ever  she  did,  and  she  will,  it  is  believed,  keep  all  matters  well 
with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham ;  though  this  is  a  time  that  the 
King  will  be  very  backward,  I  suppose,  to  appear  in  such  a  busi- 
ness. And  it  is  pretty  to  hear  how  the  King  had  some  notice  of 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  349 

was  at  the  head  of  those  who  exclaimed  against  so 
public  and  scandalous  a  crime,  and  against  the  impunity 

this  challenge  a  week  or  two  ago,  and  did  give  it  to  my  Lord 
General  to  confine  the  Duke,  or  take  security  that  he  should  not 
do  any  such  thing  as  fight;  and  the  General  trusted  to  the  King 
that  he,  sending  for  him,  would  do  it,  and  the  King  trusted 
to  the  General.  And  it  is  said  that  my  Lord  Shrewsbury's  case  is 
to  be  feared,  that  he  may  die  too ;  and  that  may  make  it  much 
worse  for  the  Duke  of  Buckingham ;  and  I  shall  not  be  much 
sorry  for  it,  that  we  may  have  some  sober  man  come  in  his 
room  to  assist  in  the  Government."  Again,  isth  May  1668 :  "  I 
am  told  that  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury  is  brought  home  by  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham  to  his  house,  where  his  Duchess,  saying 
that  it  was  not  for  her  and  the  other  to  live  together  in  a  house, 
he  answered,  '  Why,  madame,  I  did  think  so,  and  therefore  have 
ordered  your  coach  to  be  ready  to  carry  you  to  your  father's,' 
which  was  a  devilish  speech,  but  they  say  true;  and  my  Lady 
Shrewsbury  is  there,  it  seems." 

Walpole  says  that  during  the  encounter  the  Countess,  disguised 
as  a  page,  held  Buckingham's  horse  (Noble  Authors,  ii.  p.  82). 
In  August  1671,  according  to  Andrew  Marvell,  still  "  Buckingham 
runs  out  with  the  Lady  Shrewsbury,  whom  he  believes  he  had  a 
son  (by),  to  whom  the  King  stood  godfather.  It  died  young, 
Earl  of  Coventry,  and  was  buried  in  the  sepulchre  of  his  fathers." 
(Marvell's  Works,  i.  p.  406.)  In  the  Burial  Register  of  West- 
minster Abbey  for  I2th  March  1670-1  is  the  following  entry: 
"A  young  male  child  was  layd  in  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's 
vault,  being  related  to  that  family." 

Notwithstanding  that  the  Duchess  was  alive  at  the  time,  James 
II.  says  that  Buckingham  married  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury 
(Macpherson's  Original  Papers,  i.  p.  58),  but  her  brother  Francis, 
Lord  Brudenel,  and  others,  nevertheless  petitioned  the  House  of 
Lords  to  interfere,  and  the  guilty  pair  had  each  to  give  security 
for  their  future  conduct  in  the  amount  of  £10,000  a-piece  (Lords' 
Journal,  xii.  p.  628). 

Pope's  allusion  to — 

"  Cliefden's  proud  alcove 
The  bow'r  of  Wanton  Shrewsbury  and  Love  " 

cannot  be  accepted  as  true,  as  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  beauti- 
ful riverside  mansion  was  only  in  course  of  erection  in  1680, 
when  the  Countess  had  become  the  wife  of  George  Rodney 
Bridges.  Still,  with  such  an  abandoned  woman,  it  is  possible 
the  liaison  may  have  continued.  Buckingham  died  in  1687  (vide 
G.  S.  Steinman's  Althorp  Memoirs').  A  brief  account  of  the 
famous  duel  will  also  b'e  found  among  the  Verney  MSS.,  23d 
January  1667-8,  Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.  p.  486. 


350       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

of  such  a  wicked  act.  As  the  Duchess  of  Buckingham* 
was  a  short  fat  body,  like  her  Majesty,  who  never  had 
had  any  children,  and  whom  her  husband  had  aban- 
doned for  another,  this  sort  of  parallel  in  their  situa- 
tions interested  the  Queen  in  her  favour ;  but  it  was  all 
in  vain :  no  person  paid  any  attention  to  them ;  the 
licentiousness  of  the  age  went  on  uncontrolled,  though 
the  Queen  endeavoured  to  raise  up  the  serious  part  of 
the  nation,  the  politicians  and  devotees,  as  enemies 
against  it. 

The  fate  of  this  Princess  was  in  many  cases  truly 
melancholy.  The  King,  indeed,  paid  her  every  out- 
ward attention ;  but  that  was  all.  She  easily  perceived 
that  the  respect  he  entertained  for  her  daily  diminished, 
in  proportion  as  the  credit  of  her  rivals  increased.  She 
saw  that  the  King,  her  husband,  was  now  totally  in- 
different about  legitimate  children,  since  his  all-charm- 
ing mistresses  bore  him  others.  As  all  the  happiness  of 
her  life  depended  upon  that  blessing,  and  as  she  flat- 
tered herself  that  the  King  would  prove  kinder  to  her 
if  Heaven  would  vouchsafe  to  grant  her  desires,  she 
had  recourse  to  all  the  celebrated  secrets  against 
sterility :  pious  vows,  nine  days'  prayers,  and  offerings 

*  Mary,  Duchess  of  Buckingham,  only  daughter  of  Thomas, 
Lord  Fairfax,  born  1639,  married  the  profligate  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham in  1657.  Bryan  Fairfax,  in  his  Life  of  the  Duke,  says 
she  was  a  virtuous  and  pious  lady  in  a  vicious  Court,  and  lived 
lovingly  and  decently  with  her  husband,  bearing  submissively 
his  constant  infidelities.  She  appears,  however,  to  have  had 
spirit  enough  to  resent  the  outrageous  insult  mentioned  by  Pepys 
(Diary,  isth  May  1668),  referred  to  above.  By  all  accounts  she 
had  not  many  personal  attractions.  The  Countess  Dunois  de- 
scribes her  in  her  Memoirs  "as  little,  brown,  and  lean,"  and  old 
Viscountess  de  Longueville,  who  died  in  1763,  aged  nearly  a 
hundred,  spoke  of  her  as  "  a  little  round  crumpled  woman,  very 
fond  of  finery."  Upon  one  occasion  when  she  visited  her,  the 
Duchess  was  lying  on  a  sofa,  arrayed  in  a  loose  robe,  "  all 
edged  or  laced  with  gold."  The  Duchess  died  in  1705,  aged 
sixty-six,  and  was  buried  in  the  Villiers  vault,  in  Henry  VII.'s 
Chapel  at  Westminster. 


COUNT   DE    GRAMONT  351 

having  been  tried  in  all  manners,  but  all  to  no  purpose, 
she  was  at  last  obliged  to  return  to  natural  means. 

What  would  she  have  given  on  this  occasion  for  the 
ring  which  Archbishop  Turpin  wore  on  his  finger,  and 
which  made  Charlemagne  run  after  him,  in  the  same 
manner  as  it  had  made  him  run  after  one  of  his  con- 
cubines, from  whose  finger  Turpin  had  taken  it  after 
her  death!  But  it  is  now  many  years  since  the  only 
talismans  for  creating  love  are  the  charms  of  the  per- 
son beloved,  and  foreign  enchantments  have  been 
looked  upon  as  ineffectual.  The  Queen's  physicians, 
men  of  great  prudence,  sagacity,  and  wisdom,  as  they 
always  are,  having  duly  weighed  and  considered  that 
the  cold  waters  of  Tunbridge  had  not  succeeded  in 
the  preceding  year,  concluded  that  it  would  be  advis- 
able for  her  to  try  the  warm  baths  at  Bristol.26  This 
journey  was  therefore  fixed  for  the  next  season ;  and 
in  the  confidence  of  its  proving  effectual,  this  excur- 
sion would  have  afforded  her  much  pleasure,  if  the 
most  dangerous  of  her  rivals  had  not  been  one  of  the 
first  that  was  appointed  to  attend  the  Court.  The 
Duchess  of  Cleveland  being  then  near  her  time,  there 
was  no  uneasiness  on  her  account :  the  common  rules 
of  decency  required  a  little  attention.  The  public,  it 

28  The  warm  baths  alluded  to  doubtless  were  those  at  Bath, 
where  the  Court  removed  to  in  August  1663.  Pepys  records  the 
royal  progress :  "  Started  from  Whitehall  on  26th  August.  The 
first  night  was  spent  at  Maidenhead,  and  the  second  near  New- 
bury"  (probably  at  Shaw  House).  On  September  the  5th  the 
King  and  Queen,  Duke  and  Duchess  of  York,  etc.,  visited  Bristol, 
where  they  were  sumptuously  entertained  by  the  Mayor  and 
Sheriffs  (see  Barrett's  History  of  Bristol}.  According  to  Godol- 
phin,  on  22nd  September  the  King  and  Queen  left  Bath  for  Bad- 
minton, Lord  Herbert's  seat,  where  they  dined,  being  met  by 
the  county  gentry  (State  Papers,  Dom.,  28th  September  1663)  ; 
but  Pepys  records  on  the  same  date :  "  This  day  (22nd  Sep- 
tember) the  King  and  Queen  are  come  to  Oxford,"  whith'er  Lady 
Castlemaine  repaired  to  meet  them  after  the  birth  of  her  second 
son  (in  London),  on  20th  September  1663  (afterwards  created 
Duke  of  Grafton). 


352       THE   COURT  OF  CHARLES   II 

is  true,  was  not  either  more  or  less  acquainted  with 
the  circumstances  of  her  situation,  by  the  care  which 
she  now  took  to  conceal  it ;  but  her  appearing  at  Court 
in  her  present  condition  would  have  been  too  great  an 
insult  to  the  Queen.  Miss  Stewart,  more  handsome 
than  ever,  was  appointed  for  this  excursion,  and  began 
to  make  magnificent  preparations.  The  poor  Queen 
durst  say  nothing  against  it;  but  all  hopes  of  success 
immediately  forsook  her.  What  could  the  baths,  or 
the  feeble  virtue  of  the  waters,  perform  against 
charms  that  entirely  counteracted  their  effects,  either 
through  the  grief  and  uneasiness  they  occasioned  her, 
or  by  their  still  more  powerful  consequences  ? 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  to  whom  all  pleasures 
were  insipid  without  the  presence  of  Miss  Hamilton, 
was  yet  unable  to  excuse  himself  from  attending  the 
Court :  the  King  delighted  too  much  in  his  sprightly 
conversation  to  leave  him  behind;  and  however  pleas- 
ing his  company  might  have  been  in  the  solitude  oc- 
casioned by  the  absence  of  the  Court,  Miss  Hamilton 
did  not  think  it  right  to  accept  his  offer  of  staying  in 
town,  because  she  was  obliged  to  remain  there.  She, 
however,  granted  him  the  permission  of  writing  her 
an  account  of  any  news  that  might  occur  upon  the 
journey.  He  failed  not  to  make  use  of  this  permission, 
in  such  a  manner  as  one  may  imagine;  and  his  own 
concerns  took  up  so  much  space  in  his  letters,  that 
there  was  very  little  room  left  for  other  subjects  dur- 
ing his  stay  at  the  baths.  As  absence  from  the  object 
of  his  affections  rendered  this  place  insupportable,  he 
engaged  in  everything  that  might  dissipate  his  im- 
patience, until  the  happy  moment  of  return  arrived. 

He  had  a  great  esteem  for  the  elder  of  the  Hamil- 
tons ;  no  less  esteem,  and  far  more  friendship  for  his 
brother,  whom  he  made  the  confidant  of  his  passion 
and  attachment  for  his  sister.  The  Chevalier  was  also 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  353 

acquainted  with  his  first  engagements  with  his  cousin 
Wetenhall ;  but  being  ignorant  of  the  coldness  that  had 
interrupted  a  commerce  so  brisk  in  its  commencement, 
he  was  surprised  at  the  eagerness  he  showed  upon  all 
occasions  to  please  Miss  Stewart.  His  assiduity  ap- 
peared to  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  to  exceed  those 
civilities  and  attentions  that  are  usually  paid  for  the 
purpose  of  making  court  to  the  favourites  of  princes. 
He  observed  him  more  strictly,  and  soon  perceived  that 
he  was  deeper  in  love  with  her  than  was  consistent 
either  with  his  fortune  or  his  repose.  As  soon  as  the 
remarks  he  made  had  confirmed  him  in  his  suspicions, 
he  resolved  to  use  his  endeavours  to  prevent  the  con- 
sequences of  an  engagement  pernicious  in  every  re- 
spect; but  he  waited  for  a  proper  opportunity  of 
speaking  to  him  upon  the  subject. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Court  enjoyed  every  kind  orf 
diversion,  in  a  place  where  amusement  is  sought  with 
avidity.  The  game  of  bowls,  which  in  France  is  the 
pastime  of  mechanics  and  servants  only,  is  quite  the 
contrary  in  England,  where  it  is  the  exercise  of  gentle- 
men, and  requires  both  art  and  address.  It  is  only  in 
use  during  the  fair  and  dry  part  of  the  season,  and 
the  places  where  it  is  practised  are  charming,  delicious 
walks,"  called  bowling-greens,  which  are  little  square 
grass  plots,  where  the  turf  is  almost  as  smooth  and 
level  as  the  cloth  of  a  billiard-table.  As  soon  as  the 
heat  of  the  day  is  over,  all  the  company  assemble 
there :  they  play  deep ;  and  spectators  are  at  liberty  to 
make  what  bets  they  please. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  long  before  initiated  in 
the  English  games  and  diversions,  had  been  engaged 
in  a  horse-race,  in  which  he  was  indeed  unsuccessful ; 
but  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  being  convinced  by  ex- 
perience that  an  English  horse  can  go  twenty  miles 
*  Enclosures  (Vizetelly). 


354       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

upon  the  high  road  in  less  than  an  hour.  He  was 
more  fortunate  at  cock-fighting;  and  in  the  bets  he 
made  at  the  bowling-green,  the  party  he  betted  upon 
never  failed  to  win. 

Near  all  these  places  of  diversion  there  is  usually  a 
sort  of  inn,  or  house  of  entertainment,  with  a  bower 
or  arbour,  in  which  are  sold  all  sorts  of  English 
liquors,  such  as  cider,  mead,  bottled  beer,  and  Spanish 
wines.  Here  the  rooks  meet  every  evening  to  drink, 
smoke,  and  to  try  their  skill  upon  each  other,  or,  in 
other  words,  to  endeavour  to  trick  one  another  out  of 
the  winnings  of  the  day.  These  rooks  are,  properly 
speaking,  what  we  call  capons  or  piqueurs  in  France : 
men  who  always  carry  money  about  them,  to  enable 
them  to  lend  to  losing  gamesters,  for  which  they  re- 
ceive a  gratification,  which  is  nothing  for  such  as  play 
deep,  as  it  is  only  two  per  cent,  and  the  money  to  be 
repaid  the  next  day. 

These  gentlemen  are  so  nice  in  their  calculations, 
and  so  particularly  skilful  in  all  manner  of  games, 
that  no  person  would  dare  to  enter  the  lists  with  them, 
were  they  even  assured  that  no  unfairness  would  be 
practised.  Besides,  they  make  a  vow  to  win  four  or 
five  guineas  a  day,  and  to  be  satisfied  with  that  gain : 
a  vow  which  they  seldom  or  never  break. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  a  company  of  these  rooks 
that  Hamilton  found  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  when 
he  called  in  one  evening  to  get  a  glass  of  cider.  They 
were  playing  at  hazard ;  and  as  he  who  holds  the  dice 
is  supposed  to  have  the  advantage,  the  rooks  did  the 
Chevalier  de  Gramont  that  honour  out  of  compliment. 
He  had  the  dice  in  his  hand  when  Hamilton  came  into 
the  room.  The  rooks,  secure  of  their  odds,  were 
betting  against  him  at  a  high  rate,  and  he  took  all. 

Hamilton  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes,  to  see  a 
man  of  his  experience  and  knowledge  engaged  in  so 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  355 

unequal  a  contest;  but  it  was  to  no  purpose  that  he 
informed  him  of  his  danger,  both  aloud  in  French,  and 
in  private  by  signs ;  he  still  disregarded  his  warnings, 
and  the  dice,  that  bore  Caesar  and  his  fortunes,  per- 
formed a  miracle  in  his  favour.  The  rooks  were  de- 
feated for  the  first  time,  but  not  without  bestowing 
upon  him  all  the  encomiums  and  praises  of  being  a 
very  fair  and  honourable  player,  which  they  never  fail 
to  lavish  upon  those  whom  they  wish  to  engage  a 
second  time;  but  all  their  commendations  were  lost, 
and  their  hopes  deceived :  the  Chevalier  was  satisfied 
with  the  first  experiment. 

Hamilton,  when  the  King  was  at  supper,  related  to 
him  how  he  found  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  rashly 
engaged  with  the  rooks,  and  in  what  manner  he  had 
been  providentially  preserved.  "Indeed,  Sir,"  said  the 
Chevalier  de  Gramont,  "the  rooks  were  discomfited 
for  once,"  and  thereupon  related  the  adventure  to  his 
Majesty  in  his  usual  way,  attracting  the  attention  of 
all  the  company  to  a  circumstance  trifling  in  itself,  but 
rendered  interesting  by  his  humour. 

After  supper,  Miss  Stewart,  in  whose  apartment 
there  was  play,  called  Hamilton  to  her  to  tell  the  story. 
The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  perceiving  that  she  at- 
tended to  him  with  pleasure,  was  fully  confirmed  in 
the  truth  of  his  first  conjectures ;  and,  having  carried 
Hamilton  home  with  him  to  supper,  they  began  to 
discourse  freely  together  as  usual.  "George,"  said  the 
Chevalier  de  Gramont,  "are  you  in  any  want  of 
money  ?  I  know  you  love  play ;  perhaps  it  may  not  be 
so  favourable  to  you  as  it  is  to  me.  We  are  at  a  great 
distance  from  London.  Here  are  two  hundred 
guineas  :  take  them,  I  beseech  you ;  they  will  do  to  play 
with  at  Miss  Stewart's."  Hamilton,  who  little  ex- 
pected this  conclusion,  was  rather  disconcerted. 
"How !  at  Miss  Stewart's !"  "Yes,  in  her  apartments. 

12— Memoirs  Vol.  4 


356       THE   COURT  OF  CHARLES   II 

Friend  George,"  continued  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont, 
"I  have  not  yet  lost  my  eyes.  You  are  in  love  with 
her,  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  she  is  not  offended  at 
it;  but  tell  me  how  you  could  resolve  to  banish  poor 
Wetenhall  from  your  heart,  and  suffer  yourself  to  be 
infatuated  with  a  girl,  who  perhaps,  after  all,  is  not 
worth  the  other,  and  who,  besides,  whatever  favour- 
able dispositions  she  may  have  for  you,  will  undoubt- 
edly in  the  end  prove  your  ruin.  Faith,  your  brother 
and  you  are  two  pretty  fellows  in  your  choice.  What ! 
can  you  find  no  other  beauties  in  all  the  Court  to  fall 
in  love  with  except  the  King's  two  mistresses!  As 
for  the  elder  brother,  I  can  pardon  him :  he  only  took 
Lady  Castlemaine  after  his  master  had  done  with  her, 
and  after  Lady  Chesterfield  had  discarded  him;  but, 
as  for  you,  what  the  devil  do  you  intend  to  do  with 
a  creature  on  whom  the  King  seems  every  day  to  dote 
with  increasing  fondness?  Is  it  because  that  drunken 
sot  Richmond  has  again  come  forward,  and  now  de- 
clares himself  one  of  her  professed  admirers?  You 
will  soon  see  what  he  will  make  by  it.  I  have  not 
forgotten  what  the  King  said  to  me  upon  the  subject. 
"Believe  me,  my  dear  friend,  there  is  no  playing 
tricks  with  our  masters;  I  mean,  there  is  no  ogling 
their  mistresses.  I  myself  wanted  to  play  the  agree- 
able in  France  with  a  little  coquette,  whom  the  King 
did  not  care  about,  and  you  know  how  dearly  I  paid 
for  it."  I  confess  she  gives  you  fair  play,  but  dp  not 
trust  to  her.  AH  the  sex  feel  an  unspeakable  satisfac- 
tion at  having  men  in  their  train  whom  they  do  not 
care  for,  and  to  use  them  as  their  slaves  of  state, 
merely  to  swell  their  equipage.  Would  it  not  be  a 
great  deal  better  to  pass  a  week  or  ten  days  incognito 
at  Peckham,  with  the  philosopher  Wetenhall's  wife, 

*  Gramont  here  refers  to  his  attentions  to  Mademoiselle  de  la 
Motte  Houdancourt,  before  alluded  to  (see  ante,  p.  85). 


COUNT  DE   GRAMONT  357 

than  to  have  it  inserted  in  the  Dutch  Gazette — We 
hear  from  Bristol  that  such  a  one  is  banished  the 
Court  on  account  of  Miss  Stewart,  and  that  he  is  going 
to  make  a  campaign  in  Guinea"  on  board  the  fleet  that 
is  fitting  out  for  the  expedition,  under  the  command 
of  Prince  Rupert." 

Hamilton,  who  was  convinced  of  the  truth  of  this 
discourse,  the  more  he  considered  it,  after  musing 
some  time,  appeared  to  wake  from  a  dream,  and 
addressing  himself  with  an  air  of  gratitude  to  the 
Chevalier  de  Gramont :  "Of  all  the  men  in  the  world, 
my  dear  friend,"  said  he,  "y°u  have  the  most  agreeable 
wit,  and  at  the  same  time  the  clearest  judgment  with 
respect  to  your  friends:  what  you  have  told  me  has 
opened  my  eyes.  I  began  to  suffer  myself  to  be  se- 
duced by  the  most  ridiculous  illusion  imaginable,  and 
to  be  hurried  away  rather  by  frivolous  appearances 
than  any  real  inclination.  To  you  I  owe  the  obligation 
of  having  preserved  me  from  destruction  at  the  very 
brink  of  the  precipice.  This  is  not  the  only  kindness 
you  have  done  me :  your  favours  have  been  innumer- 
able ;  and,  as  a  proof  of  my  gratitude  for  this  last,  I 
will  follow  your  advice,  and  go  into  retirement  at  my 
cousin  Wetenhall's,  to  eradicate  from  my  recollection 
every  trace  of  those  chimeras  which  lately  possessed 
my  brain ;  but  so  far  from  going  there  incognito,  I  will 
take  you  along  with  me,  as  soon  as  the  Court  returns 
to  London.  My  sister  shall  likewise  be  of  the  party ; 
for  it  is  prudent  to  use  all  precautions  with  a  man  who, 
with  a  great  deal  of  merit,  on  such  occasions  is  not 
over-scrupulous,  if  we  may  credit  your  philosopher." 
"Do  not  pay  any  attention  to  that  pedant,"  replied  the 
Chevalier  de  Gramont;  "but  tell  me  what  put  it  into 
your  head  to  form  a  design  upon  that  inanimate  statue, 

"This  expedition  was  intended  to  have  taken  place  in  1664 
(vide  footnote,  p.  580). 


358       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

Miss  Stewart?"  "How  the  devil  should  I  k'now?" 
said  Hamilton.  "You  are  acquainted  with  all  her 
childish  amusements.  The  old  Lord  Carlingford80  was 
at  her  apartment  one  evening,  showing  her  how  to  hold 
a  lighted  wax  candle  in  her  mouth,  and  the  grand 
secret  consisted  in  keeping  the  burning  end  there  a 
long  time  without  its  being  extinguished.  I  have, 
thank  God,  a  pretty  large  mouth,  and,  in  order  to 
out-do  her  teacher,  I  took  two  candles  into  my  mouth 
at  the  same  time,  and  walked  three  times  round  the 
room  without  their  going  out.  Every  person  present 
adjudged  me  the  prize  of  this  illustrious  experiment, 
and  Killegrew  maintained  that  nothing  but  a  lanthorn 
could  stand  in  competition  with  me.  Upon  this  she 
was  like  to  die  with  laughing;  and  thus  was  I  ad- 
mitted into  the  familiarity  of  her  amusements.  It  is 
impossible  to  deny  her  being  one  of  the  most  charm- 
ing creatures  that  ever  was :  since  the  Court  has  been 
in  the  country,  I  have  had  an  hundred  opportunities 
of  seeing  her,  which  I  had  not  before.  You  know  that 
the  dishabille  of  the  bath  is  a  great  convenience  for 
those  ladies  who,  strictly  adhering  to  all  the  rules  of 
decorum,  are  yet  desirous  to  display  all  their  charms 
and  attractions.  Miss  Stewart  is  so  fully  acquainted 
with  the  advantages  she  possesses  over  all  other 
women,  that  it  is  hardly  possible  to  praise  any  lady  at 
Court  for  a  well-turned  arm,  and  a  fine  leg,  but  she 
is  ever  ready  to  dispute  the  point  by  demonstration. 
After  all,  a  man  must  be  very  insensible  to  remain 
unconcerned  and  unmoved  on  such  happy  occasions; 
and,  besides,  the  good  opinion  we  entertain  of  our- 
selves is  apt  to  make  us  think  a  woman  is  smitten,  as 
soon  as  she  distinguishes  us  by  habitual  familiarity, 
10  Theobald  Taafe,  the  second  Viscount  Taafe,  created  Earl  of 
Carlingford,  in  the  county  of  Louth,  the  father  of  the  Lord 
Taafe  who  had  the  intrigue  with  Miss  Warminster  (see  ante, 
pp.  239-245). 


COUNT  DE   GRAMONT  359 

which  most  commonly  signifies  nothing.  This  is  the 
truth  of  the  matter  with  respect  to  myself :  my  own 
presumption,  her  beauty,  the  brilliant  station  that  set 
it  off,  and  a  thousand  kind  things  she  had  said  to  me, 
prevented  me  from  making  serious  reflections;  but 
then,  as  some  excuse  for  my  folly,  I  must  likewise  tell 
you,  that  the  facility  I  found  in  making  her  the  ten- 
derest  declarations  by  commending  her,  and  her  telling 
me  in  confidence  a  thousand  things  which  she  ought 
not  to  have  entrusted  me  with,  might  have  deceived 
or  infatuated  any  other  man  as  well  as  myself. 

"I  presented  her  with  one  of  the  prettiest  horses  in 
England.  You  know  what  peculiar  grace  and  elegance 
distinguish  her  on  horseback.  The  King — who,  of  all 
the  diversions  of  the  chase,  likes  none  but  hawking, 
because  it  is  the  most  convenient  for  the  ladies — went 
out  the  other  day  to  take  this  amusement,  attended  by 
all  the  beauties  of  his  Court.  His  Majesty  having 
galloped  after  a  falcon,  and  the  whole  bright  squadron 
after  him,  the  rustling  of  Miss  Stewart's  petticoats 
frightened  her  horse,  which,  at  full  speed,  was  en- 
deavouring to  come  up  with  mine,  that  had  been  his81 
companion;  so  that  I  was  the  only  witness  of  a  dis- 
order in  her  clothes,  which  displayed  a  thousand  new 
beauties  to  my  view.  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  make 
such  gallant  and  flattering  exclamations  upon  that 
charming  disorder  as  to  prevent  her  being  concerned  or 
out  of  countenance  upon  it :  on  the  contrary,  this  sub- 
ject of  my  admiration  has  been  frequently  since  the 
subject  of  our  conversation,  and  did  not  seem  to  dis- 
please her. 

"Old    Lord    Carlingford,    and    that    mad    fellow, 
Crofts88  (for  I  must  now  make  you  my  general  con- 
Stable  companion  (Vizetelly). 

32  William,  Lord  Crofts,  eldest  son  of  Sir  Henry   Crofts  of 
Little  Saxham,  Suffolk,  Gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber  to  the 


360       THE  COURT   OF  CHARLES   II 

fessi on),  those  insipid  buffoons,  were  frequently  telling 
her  some  diverting  stories,  which  passed  pretty  well 
with  the  help  of  a  few  old  threadbare  jests,  or  some 
apish  tricks  in  the  recital,  which  made  her  laugh 
heartily.  As  for  myself,  who  know  no  stories,  and  do 
not  possess  the  talent  of  improving  them  by  telling,  if 
I  did  know  any,  I  was  often  greatly  embarrassed  when 
she  desired  me  to  tell  her  one.  'I  do  not  know  one, 
indeed,'  said  I,  one  day,  when  she  was  teasing  me  on 
the  subject. 

"  'Invent  one,  then,'  said  she.  'That  would  be  still 
more  difficult/  replied  I;  'but  if  you  will  give  me 
leave,  madam,  I  will  relate  to  you  a  very  extraor- 
dinary dream,  which  has,  however,  less  appearance  of 
truth  in  it  than  dreams  generally  have/  This  excited 
her  curiosity,  which  would  brook  no  denial.  I  there- 
fore began  to  tell  her  that  the  most  beautiful  creature 
in  the  world,  whom  I  loved  to  distraction,  paid  me  a 
visit  in  my  sleep.  I  then  drew  her  own  portrait,  with 
a  rapturous  description  of  all  her  beauties;  adding, 
that  this  goddess,  who  came  to  visit  me  with  the  most 
favourable  intentions,  did  not  counteract  them  by  any 
unreasonable  cruelty.  This  was  not  sufficient  to  satisfy 
Miss  Stewart's  curiosity :  I  was  obliged  to  relate  every 
particular  circumstance  of  the  kindness  I  experienced 
from  this  delicate  phantom ;  to  which  she  was  so  very 
attentive,  that  she  never  once  appeared  surprised  or 
disconcerted  at  the  luscious  tale.  On  the  contrary,  she 
made  me  repeat  the  description  of  the  beauty,  which  I 
drew  as  near  as  possible  after  her  own  person,  and 

King  and  Duke  of  York.  Groom  of  the  Stole,  and  captain  of 
a  regiment  of  Guards  to  the  Queen  Mother.  He  was  appointed 
to  act  as  guardian  to  the  young  Duke  of  Monmouth,  vho  adopted 
his  name  until  he  took  that  of  Scott  in  1663.  Pepys  (23rd  Oc- 
tober 1668)  mentions  a  drinking  bout  by  the  King,  Buckhurst, 
Sedley,  and  others  at  Saxham,  which  old  Hall  was  pulled  down 
in  1771. 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  361 

after  such  charms  as  I  imagined  of  beauties  that  were 
unknown  to  me. 

"This  is,  in  fact,  the  very  thing  that  had  almost  de- 
prived me  of  my  senses.  She  knew  very  well  that  she 
herself  was  the  person  I  was  describing.  We  were 
alone,  as  you  may  imagine,  when  I  told  her  this  story ; 
and  my  eyes  did  their  utmost  to  persuade  her  that  it 
was  herself  whom  I  drew.  I  perceived  that  she  was 
not  in  the  least  offended  at  knowing  this ;  nor  was  her 
modesty  in  the  least  alarmed  at  the  relation  of  a  fiction, 
which  I  might  have  concluded  in  a  manner  still  less 
discreet,  if  I  had  thought  proper.  This  patient  audi- 
ence made  me  plunge  headlong  int©  the  ocean  of 
flattering  ideas  that  presented  themselves  to  my  im- 
agination. I  then  no  longer  thought  of  the  King,  nor 
how  passionately  fond  he  was  of  her,  nor  of  the 
dangers  attendant  upon  such  an  engagement :  in  short, 
I  know  not  what  the  devil  I  was  thinking  of;  but  I 
am  very  certain  that,  if  you  had  not  been  thinking  for 
me,  I  might  have  found  my  ruin  in  the  midst  of  these 
distracted  visions." 

Not  long  after,  the  Court  returned  to  London ;  and 
from  that  time,  some  malevolent  star  having  gained 
the  ascendant,  everything  went  cross  in  the  empire  of 
Love :  vexation,  suspicions,  or  jealousies,  first  entered 
the  field,  to  set  all  hearts  at  variance;  next,  false 
reports,  slander,  and  disputes  completed  the  ruin  of  all. 

The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  had  been  brought  to  bed 
while  the  Court  was  at  Bristol;  and  never  before  had 
she  recovered  from  her  lying-in  with  such  a  profusion 
of  charms.  This  made  her  believe  that  she  was  in  a 
proper  state  to  retrieve  her  ancient  rights  over  the 
King's  heart,  if  she  had  an  opportunity  of  appearing 
before  him  with  this  increased  splendour.  Her  friends 
being  of  the  same  opinion,  her  equipage  was  prepared 
for  this  expedition;  but  the  very  evening  before  the 


362       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

day  she  had  fixed  on  to  set  out,  she  saw  young  Church- 
ill and  was  at  once  seized  with  a  disease  which  had 
more  than  once  opposed  her  projects,  and  which  she 
could  never  completely  get  the  better  of. 

A  man  who,  from  an  ensign  in  the  Guards,  was 
raised  to  such  a  fortune,  must  certainly  possess  an 
uncommon  share  of  prudence,  not  to  be  intoxicated 
with  his  happiness.  Churchill  boasted  in  all  places  of 
the  new  favour  he  had  received.  The  Duchess  of 
Cleveland,  who  neither  recommended  to  him  circum- 
spection in  his  behaviour,  nor  in  his  conversation,  did 
not  seem  to  be  in  the  least  concerned  at  his  indiscretion. 
Thus  this  intrigue  had  become  a  general  topic  in  all 
companies,  when  the  Court  arrived  in  London,**  and 
occasioned  an  immense  number  of  speculations  and 
reasonings.  Some  said  she  had  already  presented  him 
with  Jermyn's  pension,  and  Jacob  Hall's  salary,88  be- 
cause the  merits  and  qualifications  of  both  were  united 

"John  Churchill  (then  Page  of  Honour  to  the  Duke  of  York 
and  an  ensign),  afterwards  the  famous  Duke  of  Marlborough 
(born  1650,  ob.  1722).  Lord  Chesterfield,  who  knew  the  Duke 
well,  says  "  he  possessed  the  highest  graces,  and  to  these,  in  a 
great  measure,  he  owed  his  subsequent  greatness  and  riches." 
At  the  same  time  he  was  far  from  brilliant,  though  he  was  re- 
markably clear-headed,  and  had  sound  judgment.  Like  the  Duke 
of  Monmouth,  he  had  a  handsome  face  and  figure,  and  had 
a  particularly  affable  and  gracious  manner,  which  made  him 
courted  by  both  sexes.  He  could  refuse  more  gracefully  than 
others  could  grant,  and  those  who  left  him  disappointed  were 
invariably  charmed  with  his  courteous  manner.  Of  all  historians 
Macaulay  is  perhaps  the  most  severe  upon  Marlborough ;  on  the 
other  hand,  Lord  Wolseley  handles  him  a  little  too  leniently 
(see  Life  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough}.  According  to  King's 
Anecdotes,  when  old  and  infirm  the  Duke  always  walked  to  save 
sixpence  for  a  chair. 

**2nd  October  1663  was  the  date  of  the  return  of  the  Court 
from  Bristol.  Hamilton  has  confused  this  with  a  later  event. 
Young  Churchill  was  about  thirteen  in  1663,  and  his  intrigue 
with  Lady  Castlemaine  was  at  the  earliest  in  1668,  probably 
two  or  three  years  later. 

"Lord  Chesterfield  relates  in  his  Letters  (No.  136)  that  when 
Churchill  was  an  ensign  of  the  Guards,  the  Duchess,  struck  by 


COUNT    DE   GRAMONT  363 

in  his  person;  others  maintained  that  he  had  too 
indolent  an  air,  and  too  delicate  a  shape,  long  to  main- 
tain himself  in  her  favour;  but  all  agreed  that  a  man 
who  was  the  favourite  of  the  King's  mistress,  and 
brother  to  the  Duke's  favourite,  was  in  a  fair  way  of 
preferment,  and  could  not  fail  to  make  his  fortune. 
As  a  proof,  the  Duke  of  York  soon  after  gave  him  a 
place  in  his  household:  this  was  naturally  to  be  ex- 
pected; but  the  King,  who  did  not  think  that  Lady 
Cleveland's  kindness  to  him  was  a  sufficient  recom- 
mendation to  his  favour,  thought  proper  to  forbid  him 
the  Court. 

This  good-natured  King  began  now  to  be  rather 
peevish :  nor  was  it  altogether  without  reason.  He 
disturbed  no  person  in  their  amours,  and  yet  others  had 
often  the  presumption  to  encroach  upon  his.  Lord 
Dorset,  First  Lord  of  the  Bedchamber,  had  lately 
debauched  from  his  service  Nell  Gwyn,  the  actress." 

his  graces,  gave  him  £5000,  with  which  he  bought  an  annuity  of 
£500  from  Halifax,  Chesterfield's  grandfather.  Mrs.  Manley, 
who,  in  after  years,  lived  as  a  companion  to  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland,  says  that  though  Churchill  had  received  thousands 
from  the  Duchess,  he  refused  the  common  civility  of  lending 
her  twenty  guineas  at  the  basset  table  (vide  History  of  Rivella, 

1725)- 

According  to  the  French  Ambassador  Courtin,  Churchill  re- 
ceived not  only  money,  jewels,  but  even  estates  from  some  of  the 
wealthy  women  at  Court.  Upon  discovering  the  intrigue  with  his 
mistress,  Charles  said  he  would  forgive  him,  as  he  had  become 
a  lover  to  save  himself  from  starving. — MS.  Affaires  Estrangeres 
Angleterre  (Forneron's  Louise  de  Keroualle). 

"  The  Duchess  of  Cleveland,"  says  Burnet,  "  finding  that  she 
had  lost  the  King,  abandoned  herself  to  great  disorders,  one  of 
which,  by  the  artifice  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  was  discovered 
by  the  King  in  person,  the  party  concerned  leaping  out  of  the 
window"  (Burnet's  Own  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  264). 

K  Boyer,  the  first  translator  of  the  Memoirs,  says  truly  enough 
that  Nell  Gwyn  was  Lord  Dorset's  mistress  before  the  King 
became  enslaved  to  her,  and  adds  that  Dryden  told  him  that,  with 
the  object  of  getting  her  into  his  possession,  her  protector  was 
sent  on  a  "  sleeveless  errand  "  into  France.  On  I3th  July  1667, 
Pepys  records  Nell's  abduction  from  the  stage  by  Lord  Buck- 


364       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

Lady  Cleveland,  whom  he  now  no  longer  regarded, 
continued  to  disgrace  him  by  repeated  infidelities  with 
unworthy  rivals,  and  almost  ruined  him  by  the  im- 
mense sums  she  lavished  on  her  gallants;  but  that 

hurst.  "  Poor  girl ! "  he  exclaims,  "  I  pity  her,  but  more  the 
loss  of  her  at  the  King's  House."  On  26th  August  following 
he  says  (on  the  authority  of  Sir  W.  Pen)  how  "  Nell  is  already 
left  by  my  Lord  Buckhurst,  and  that  he  makes  sport  of  her  and 
swears  she  hath  had  all  she  could  get  of  him."  See  also  footnote, 
p.  2ii.  On  nth  January  1667-8,  Knepp  tells  Pepys  that  "a  good 
while  ago" — "the  King  did  send  several  times  for  Nelly,  and 
she  was  with  him." 

Hereford  claims  to  be  Nelly's  birthplace,  and  the  house  is  said 
by  tradition  to  have  been  in  "  Pipe  Well  Lane,"  recently  rechris- 
tened  Gwyn  Street,  where  a  tablet  marking  the  site  may  be  seen 
attached  to  a  garden  wall  (see  Wheatley's  edition  <  f  Cunning- 
ham's Story  of  Nell  Gwyn,  p.  xxi.)  ;  but  Peter  Cunningham 
thought  there  was  no  foundation  for  the  story.  Oldys  says  she 
was  born  in  the  Coal  Yard,  Drury  Lane,  now  called  Goldsmith 
Street,  a  turning  on  the  east  side  towards  St.  Giles  (vide  Cun- 
ningham's London).  The  date  of  her  birth,  according  to  her 
horoscope  in  the  Ashmolean  MS.,  is  2nd  February  1650-1. 

Prior  to  being  the  mistress  of  Lord  Buckhurst,  she  was  kept 
by  Charles  Hart,  the  celebrated  actor,  who  introduced  her  to 
the  stage.  The  comedian,  John  Lacy,  also  is  said  to  have  kept 
her.  This  state  of  affairs  can  hardly  be  wondered  at,  when  she 
herself  admitted  that  she  had  been  brought  up  in  a  brothel. 
From  an  orange  girl  she  was  promoted  to  actress  in  1665,  when 
she  made  her  appearance  at  Drury  Lane  in  Dryden's  Indian 
Emperor.  From  this  time  there  are  several  plays  mentioned  by 
Pepys  in  which  she  either  pleased  or  displeased  him,  according 
to  how  the  parts  suited  her.  Charles  Beauclerc,  afterwards 
created  Earl  of  Burford  and  Duke  of  St.  Albans,  Nelly's  eldest 
son  by  the  King,  was  born  8th  May  1670.  She  died  i4th  No- 
vember 1687  at  her  house  on  the  south  side  of  Pall  Mall,  now 
the  Eagle  Insurance  office.  The  garden  of  this  house  adjoined 
the  gardens  of  St.  James's  Palace  (vide  Evelyn's  oft-quoted 
entry  in  his  Diary  of  ist  March  1671).  The  site  of  a  house  on 
the  north  side  of  Pall  Mall,  where  she  also  lived  for  a  short  time 
(described  by  Pennant),  is  now  occupied  by  the  Army  and  Navy 
Club,  where  her  looking-glass  may  still  be  seen  in  the  visitors' 
dining-room.  One  apartment  was  formed  entirely  of  mirrors, 
including  the  ceiling.  Nell  Gwyn  was  buried  in  the  old  church 
of  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields.  For  further  particulars  see  Cun- 
ningham's Story  of  Nell  Gwyn,  Pepys's  Diary,  Wheatley's  edition, 
and  the  same  author's  Introduction  to  his  edition  of  Cunning- 
ham's  Nell  Gwyn,  1892. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  365 

which  most  sensibly  affected  him  was  the  late  coldness 
and  threats  of  Miss  Stewart.  He  long  since  had 
offered  her  all  the  settlements  and  all  the  titles  she 
could  desire,  until  he  had  an  opportunity  more  effec- 
tually to  provide  for  her,  which  she  had  pretended  only 
to  decline,  for  fear  of  the  scandal  they  might  occasion, 
on  her  being  raised  to  a  rank  which  would  attract  the 
public  notice;  but  since  the  return  of  the  Court,  she 
had  given  herself  other  airs:  sometimes  she  was  for 
retiring  from  Court,  to  appease  the  continual  uneasi- 
ness her  presence  gave  the  Queen;  at  other  times  it 
was  to  avoid  temptations,  by  which  she  wished  to  in- 
sinuate that  her  innocence  was  still  preserved :  in  short, 
the  King's  heart  was  continually  distracted  by  alarms, 
or  oppressed  by  ill  humour  and  caprice. 

As  he  could  not  for  his  life  imagine  what  Miss 
Stewart  wished  him  to  do,  or  what  she  would  be  at,  he 
thought  upon  reforming  his  establishment  of  mis- 
tresses, to  try  whether  jealousy  was  not  the  real  occa- 
sion of  her  uneasiness.  It  was  for  this  reason  that, 
after  having  solemnly  declared  he  would  have  nothing 
more  to  say  to  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  since  her  in- 
trigue with  Churchill,  he  discarded,  without  any  excep- 
tion,37 all  the  other  mistresses  which  he  had  in  various 
parts  of  the  town.  The  Nell  Gwyns,  the  Misses  Davis,8* 

"Began  to  discard  (Vizetelly). 

88  Moll  Davis,  the  actress  of  the  Duke's  Theatre,  who  first  ap- 
peared on  the  stage  in  1664,  was  the  illegitimate  daughter  of 
Colonel  Charles  Howard,  son  of  Thomas  Howard,  first  Earl 
of  Berkshire,  not,  as  Pepys  heard  from  Mrs.  Pearse,  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  Earl  himself,  whom  he  succeeded  in  1679  as  second 
Earl  (vide  Pepys's  Diary,  I4th  January  1667-8;  s'ee  also  King 
Montnouth,  pp.  13-14  note).  There  is  a  tradition  at  the  village 
of  Charlton,  Wilts,  near  where  stands  the  ancestral  home  of 
the  Howards,  that  Mary  Davis  was  the  daughter  of  the  black- 
smith there  and  at  no  time  was  a  milkmaid1  (see  Lord  Bray- 
brooke's  History  of  Audley  End,  also  Cunningham's  Story  of 
Nell  Gwyn*)  ;  but  this  is  probably  incorrect.  By  Pepys's  account, 
it  was  through  the  influence  of  the  noble  father  that  the  actress 


366       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

and  the  joyous  train  of  singers  and  dancers  in  his 
Majesty's  theatre,  were  all  dismissed.  All  these  sacri- 
fices were  ineffectual :  Miss  Stewart  continued  to  tor- 
ment, and  almost  to  drive  the  King  to  distraction ;  but 
his  Majesty  soon  after  found  out  the  real  cause  of  this 
coldness. 

This  discovery  was  owing  to  the  officious  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  who,  ever  since  her  disgrace,  had  railed 
most  bitterly  against  Miss  Stewart  as  the  cause  of  it, 
and  against  the  King's  weakness,  who,  for  an  inani- 
mate89 idiot,  had  treated  her  with  so  much  indignity. 
As  some  of  her  Grace's  creatures  were  still  in  the  King's 
confidence,  by  their  means  she  was  informed  of  the 
King's  uneasiness,  and  that  Miss  Stewart's  behaviour 
was  the  occasion  of  it ;  and  as  soon  as  she  had  found 
the  opportunity  she  had  so  long  wished  for,  she  went 
directly  into  the  King's  cabinet,  through  the  apartment 
of  one  of  his  pages  called  Chiffinch.  This  way  was  not 
new  to  her. 

The  King  was  just  returned  from  visiting  Miss 
Stewart,  in  a  very  ill  humour.  The  presence  of  the 

became  the  King's  mistress,  though  this  is  also  not  probable,  as 
her  dancing  and  singing  won  Charles's  heart  prior  to  Nell  Gwyn 
becoming  his  mistress.  It  was  the  part  of  Celania  in  The  Rivals. 
a  lovesick  shepherdess,  which  won  the  actress  her  equivocal 
position.  From  that  time  forward  she  lived  sumptuously  in 
Suffolk  Street,  Haymarket,  removing  afterwards  to  a  house  in 
St.  James's  Square  (vide  Dasent's  History  of  St.  James's 
Square).  Th*>re  are  several  allusions  to  Moll  Davis  in  Pepys's 
Diary, — of  her  superior  dancing  (in  boy's  clothes)  to  Nell  Gwyn, 
— of  Lady  Castlemaine's  jealousy — and  of  the  Queen's  resentment 
at  her  being  brought  into  favour. 

In  the  Lives  of  the  Most  Celebrated  Beauties,  1715,  a  scan- 
dalous anecdote  is  related  how  Nell  Gwyn  introduced  a  dose  of 
jalap  into  the  new  favourite's  supper  upon  her  first  introduction 
into  royal  favour.  Mary  Tudor,  Moll's  daughter,  born  in  1673, 
was  the  mother  of  the  Jacobite,  James,  Earl  of  Derwentwater, 
beheaded  in  1716. 

38  Gaily  bedecked  (Vizetelly). 

1  Lord  Braybrooke  says  a  family  of  the  name  of  Davis  was  for  many  genera- 
tions at  Charlton.  the  last  dying  about  1830.  aged  ninety  (Hist.  Audley  End). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  367 

Duchess  of  Cleveland  surprised  him,  and  did  not  in  the 
least  diminish  it.  She,  perceiving  this,  accosted  him  in 
an  ironical  tone,  and  with  a  smile  of  indignation.  "I 
hope,"  said  she,  "I  may  be  allowed  to  pay  you  my 
homage,  although  the  angelic  Stewart  has  forbid  you 
to  see  me  at  my  own  house.  I  will  not  make  use  of 
reproaches  and  expostulations,  which  would  disgrace 
myself:  still  less  will  I  endeavour  to  excuse  frailties 
which  nothing  can  justify,  since  your  constancy  for  me 
deprives  me  of  all  defence,  considering  I  am  the  only 
person  you  have  honoured  with  your  tenderness,  who 
has  made  herself  unworthy  of  it  by  ill  conduct.  I 
come  now,  therefore,  with  no  other  intent  than  to 
comfort  and  to  condole  with  you  upon  the  affliction 
and  grief  into  which  the  coldness,  or  new-fashioned 
chastity  of  the  inhuman  Stewart  have  reduced  your 
Majesty." 

These  words  were  attended  by  a  fit  of  laughter, 
as  unnatural  and  strained  as  it  was  insulting  and  im- 
moderate, which  completed  the  King's  impatience. 
He  had,  indeed,  expected  that  some  bitter  jest  would 
follow  this  preamble;  but  he  did  not  suppose  she 
would  have  given  herself  such  blustering  airs,  con- 
sidering the  terms  they  were  then  upon;  and,  as  he 
was  preparing  to  answer  her :  "Be  not  offended,"  said 
she,  "that  I  take  the  liberty  of  laughing  at  the  gross 
manner  in  which  you  are  imposed  upon.  I  cannot  bear 
to  see  that  such  particular  affectation  should  make  you 
the  jest  of  your  own  Court,  and  that  you  should  be 
ridiculed  with  such  impunity.  I  know  that  the  affected 
Stewart  has  sent  you  away,  under  pretence  of  some  in- 
disposition, or  perhaps  some  scruple  of  conscience;  and 
I  come  to  acquaint  you  that  the  Duke  of  Richmond 
will  soon  be  with  her,  if  he  is  not  there  already.  I  do 
not  desire  you  to  believe  what  I  say,  since  it  might  be 
prompted  either  through  resentment  or  envy :  only  f ol- 


368       THE  COURT  OF  CHARLES  H 

low  me  to  her  apartment,  either  that,  no  longer  trust- 
ing calumny  and  malice,  you  may  honour  her  with  a 
just  preference,  if  I  accuse  her  falsely;  or,  if  my  in- 
formation be  true,  you  may  no  longer  be  the  dupe  of  a 
pretended  prude,  who  makes  you  act  so  unbecoming 
and  ridiculous  a  part" 

As  she  ended  this  speech,  she  took  him  by  the  hand, 
while  he  was  yet  undecided,  and  pulled  him  away 
towards  her  rival's  apartments.  Chiffinch*  being  in 
her  interest,  Miss  Stewart  could  have  no  warning  of 

*°  William  Chiffinch  or  Cheffing,  Page  of  the  Backstairs  and 
Keeper  of  the  King's  Closet,  brother  and  successor  to  Thomas 
Chiffinch,  who  held  the  confidential  post  under  Charles  I.,  and 
was  caretaker  of  the  jewels,  pictures,  etc.,  at  Whitehall.  William 
and  his  wife,  Barbara  Nunn,  succeeded  to  the  backstair  duties  in 
1666,  with  a  salary  of  £1200.  In  Fisher's  plan  of  the  Palace, 
Chiffinch's  apartments  may  be  seen  adjoining  those  of  the  King, 
the  stairs  leading  directly  up  to  them  from  the  river.  Here  it 
was  that  the  most  secret  interviews  were  held  by  both  Charles 
and  his  brother  James. 

In  a  letter  from  Charles  to  Sir  John  Shaw,  he  says :  *  I  could 
not  get  time  to  speake  with  your  man  that  is  come  over,  but 
now  if  you  will  send  him  to  Will  Chiffines  at  7  this  evening  he 
will  bring  him  privately  into  my  closet. — C.  R."  The  duties  also 
of  Mrs.  Chiffinch  are  alluded  to  in  Scott's  Peveril  of  the  Peak, 
an  idea  of  which  may  be  gathered  from  a  contemporary  satire 
which  commences— 

"  It  happened  in  the  twilight  of  the  day, 
As  England's  monarch  in  his  closet  lay, 
And  Chiffinch  stepped  to  fetch  the  female  prey.** 

Chiffinch  was  the  receiver  of  the  pension  from  King  Louis.  The 
family  came  from  Kent,  but  settled  at  Salisbury,  to  which  town 
William  was  a  benefactor.  By  the  Verney  Papers  it  appears  he 
was  knighted.  "  Last  week,"  says  John  Verney,  "  the  King  being 
at  Windsor  did  Mr.  Chiffinch  the  favour  to  dine  with  him,  and 
after  dinner  conferred  the  honor  of  knighthood  on  him  "  (Hist. 
MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.  p.  467).  Chiffinch  lived  not  far  from 
Windsor,  at  Bray,  at  a  house  still  existing,  called  "  Philberts." 
Tradition  says  the  King  made  many  of  his  private  pleasure  trips 
there  (vide  History  of  Bray).  Here  Chiffinch  died  in  1691 
(?i688).  He  also  owned  property  at  Iden  Green,  near  Staple- 
hurst.  His  daughter  Barbara  married  Edward  Villiers,  first  Earl 
of  Jersey. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  369 

the  visit;  and  Babiani,*1  who  owed  all  to  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  and  who  served  her  admirably  well  upon 
this  occasion,  came  and  told  her  that  the  Duke  of 
Richmond  had  just  gone  into  Miss  Stewart's  chamber. 
It  was  in  the  middle  of  a  little  gallery,  which,  through 
a  private  door,  led  from  the  King's  apartments  to  those 
of  his  mistresses.  The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  wished 
him  good-night,  as  he  entered  her  rival's  chamber,  and 
retired,  in  order  to  wait  the  success  of  the  adventure, 
of  which  Babiani,  who  attended  the  King,  was  charged 
to  come  and  give  her  an  account. 

It  was  near  midnight.  The  King,  in  his  way,  met 
his  mistress's  chambermaid,  who  respectfully  opposed 
his  entrance,  and  in  a  very  low  voice  whispered  his 
Majesty  that  Miss  Stewart  had  been  very  ill  since 
he  left  her ;  but  that,  being  gone  to  bed,  she  was,  God 
be  thanked,  in  a  very  fine  sleep.  "That  I  must  see," 
said  the  King,  pushing  her  back,  who  had  posted  her- 
self in  his  way.  He  found  Miss  Stewart  in  bed,  indeed, 
but  far  from  being  asleep :  the  Duke  of  Richmond  was 
seated  at  her  pillow,  and  in  all  probability  was  less 
inclined  to  sleep  than  herself.  The  perplexity  of  the 
one  party,  and  the  rage  of  the  other,  were  such  as  may 
easily  be  imagined  upon  such  a  surprise.  The  King, 
who,  of  all  men,  was  one  of  the  most  mild  and  gentle, 
testified  his  resentment  to  the  Duke  of  Richmond  in 
such  terms  as  he  had  never  before  used.  The  Duke 
was  speechless,  and  almost  petrified :  he  saw  his  master 
and  his  King  justly  irritated.  The  first  transports 
which  rage  inspires  on  such  occasions  are  dangerous. 
Miss  Stewart's  window  was  very  convenient  for  a 
sudden  revenge,  the  Thames  flowing  close  beneath  it. 
He  cast  his  eyes  upon  it ;  and,  seeing  those  of  the  King 

41  Possibly  "  Bab  "  May,  who,  according  to  Pepys,  was  attached 
to  her  interests.  He  was  Page  of  the  Bedchamber  and  confidant 
of  the  King's  amours.  Born  1627,  ob.  1693. 


370       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

more  incensed  and  fired  with  indignation  than  he 
thought  his  nature  capable  of,  he  made  a  profound 
bow,  and  retired,  without  replying  a  single  word  to  the 
vast  torrent  of  threats  and  menaces  that  were  poured 
upon  him. 

Miss  Stewart,  having  a  little  recovered  from  her 
first  surprise,  instead  of  justifying  herself,  began  to 
talk  in  the  most  extravagant  manner,  and  said  every- 
thing that  was  most  capable42  to  inflame  the  King's 
passion  and  resentment;  that,  if  she  were  not  allowed 
to  receive  visits  from  a  man  of  the  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond's rank,  who  came  with  honourable  intentions, 
she  was  a  slave  in  a  free  country ;  that  she  knew  of  no 
engagement  that  could  prevent  her  from  disposing  of 
her  hand  as  she  thought  proper;  but,  however,  if  this 
was  not  permitted  her  in  his  dominions,  she  did  not 
believe  that  there  was  any  power  on  earth  that  could 
hinder  her  from  going  over  to  France,  and  throwing 
herself  into  a  convent,  to  enjoy  there  that  tranquillity 
which  was  denied  her  in  his  Court.  The  King,  some- 
times furious  with  anger,  sometimes  relenting  at  her 
tears,  and  sometimes  terrified  at  her  menaces,  was  so 
greatly  agitated,  that  he  knew  not  how  to  answer, 
either  the  nicety  of  a  creature  who  wanted  to  act  the 
part  of  Lucretia  under  his  own  eye,  or  the  assurance 
with  which  she  had  the  effrontery  to  reproach  him.  In 
this  suspense,  love  had  almost  entirely  vanquished  all 
his  resentments,  and  had  nearly  induced  him  to  throw 
himself  upon  his  knees,  and  entreat  pardon  for  the 
injury  he  had  done  her,  when  she  desired  him  to  retire, 
and  leave  her  in  repose,  at  least  for  the  remainder  of 
that  night,  without  offending  those  who  had  either  ac- 
companied him,  or  conducted  him  to  her  apartments, 
by  a  longer  visit.  This  impertinent  request  provoked 
and  irritated  him  to  the  highest  degree.  He  went  out 
49  Calculated  (Vizetelly). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  371 

abruptly,  vowing  never  to  see  her  more,  and  passed 
the  most  restless  and  uneasy  night  he  had  ever  ex- 
perienced since  his  restoration. 

The  next  day  the  Duke  of  Richmond  received  orders 
to  quit  the  Court,  and  never  more  to  appear  before  the 
King ;  but  it  seems  he  had  not  waited  for  those  orders, 
having  set  out  early  that  morning  for  his  country  seat,"* 

Miss  Stewart,  in  order  to  obviate  all  injurious  con- 
structions that  might  be  put  upon  the  adventure  of  the 

»20th  March  1666-7— Pepys  says:  "I  hear  that  the  Duke  of 
Richmond  and  Mrs.  Stewart  were  betrothed  last  night  ;  and 
on  3rd  April  1667 :  "  I  hear  how  the  King  is  not  so  well  pleased 
of  this  marriage  between  the  Duke  of  Richmond  and  Mrs  Stew- 
art as  is  talked,  and  that  he  [the  Duke]  by  a  wile  did  fetch 
her  to  the  Beare,  at  the  Bridge  foot  [a  well-known  hostelry  at 
Southwark],  where  a  Coach  was  ready  and  they  are  stole  away 
into  Kent  without  the  King's  leave  and  that  the  King  hath  said  he 
will  never  see  her  more :  but  people  do  think  that  is  only  a  trick. 
On  i6th  April :  "  Pierce  told  us  the  story  how  in  good  earnest 
[the  King!  is  offended  with  the  Duke  of  Richmond's  marrying, 
and  Mrs.  Stewart's  sending  the  King  his  jewels  again— it  is  the 
noblest  romance  and  example  of  a  brave  lady  that  ever  I  read 
in  my  life."  26th  April:  [Evelyn]  "told  me"  (writes  Pepys) 
"the  whole  story  of  Mrs.  Stewart  going  away  from  Court,  he 
knowing  her  well,  and  believes  her,  up  to  her  leaving  the  Court, 
to  be  as  virtuous  as  any  woman  in  the  world ;  and  told  me,  from 
a  Lord  that  she  told  it  to  but  yesterday,  with  her  own  mouth, 
and  a  sober  man,  that  when  the  Duke  of  Richmond  did  make 
love  to  her,  she  did  ask  the  King,  and  he  did  the  like  also,  and 
that  the  King  did  not  deny  it,  and  [she]  told  this  Lord  that 
she  was  come  to  that  pass  as  to  resolve  to  have  married  any 
gentleman  of  £1500  a  year  that  would  have  had  her  in  honour; 
for  it  was  come  to  that  pass,  that  she  could  not  longer  continue 
at  Court  without  prostituting  herself  to  the  King,  whom  she  had 
so  long  kept  off,  though  he  had  liberty  more  than  any  other  had, 
or  he  ought  to  have,  as  to  dalliance.  She  told  this  Lord  that 
she  had  reflected  upon  the  occasion  she  had  given  the  world 
to  think  her  a  bad  woman  and  that  she  had  no  way  but  to 
marry  and  leave  the  Court,  rather  in  this  way  of  discontent  than 
otherwise,  that  the  world  might  see  that  she  sought  not  anything 
but  her  honour ;  and  that  she  will  never  come  to  live  at  Court 
more  than  when  she  comes  to  town  to  come  to  kiss  the  Queen 
her  mistress's  hand,  and  hopes,  though  she  hath  little  reason  to 
hope,  she  can  please  her  Lord  so  as  to  reclaim  him,  that  they 
may  yet  live  comfortably  in  the  country  on  his  estate.  .  .  .  She 


372       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

preceding  night,  went  and  threw  herself  at  the  Queen's 
feet,  where,  acting  the  new  part  of  an  innocent  Mag- 
dalen, she  entreated  her  Majesty's  forgiveness  for  all 
the  sorrow  and  uneasiness  she  might  have  already  oc- 
casioned her.  She  told  her  Majesty  that  a  constant 
and  sincere  repentance  had  induced  her  to  contrive  all 
possible  means  for  retiring  from  Court :  that  this  rea- 
son had  inclined  her  to  receive  the  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond's addresses,  who  had  courted  her  a  long  time; 
but  since  this  courtship  had  caused  his  disgrace,  and 
had  likewise  raised  a  vast  noise  and  disturbance,  which 
perhaps  might  be  turned  to  the  prejudice  of  her  reputa- 
tion, she  conjured  her  Majesty  to  take  her  under  her 
protection,  and  endeavour  to  obtain  the  King's  per- 
mission for  her  to  retire  into  a  convent,  to  remove  at 
once  all  those  vexations  and  troubles  her  presence  had 
innocently  occasioned  at  Court.  All  this  was  accom- 
panied with  a  proper  deluge  of  tears. 

It  is  a  very  agreeable  spectacle  to  see  a  rival  pros- 
trate at  our  feet,  entreating  pardon,  and  at  the  same 
time  justifying  her  conduct.  The  Queen's  heart  not 
only  relented,  but  she  mingled  her  own  tears  with  those 

is  gone  yesterday  with  her  Lord  to  Cobham."  On  ijth  July 
(1667)  :  [Creed]  "told  me  over  the  story  of  Mrs.  Stewart  much 
after  tire  manner  which  I  was  told  it  long  since,  and  have  en- 
tered it  in  this  book  told  me  by  Mr.  Evelyn ;  only  he  says  it  is 
verily  believed  that  the  King  did  never  intend  to  marry  her 
to  any  but  himself,  and  that  the  Duke  of  York  and  Lord  Chan- 
cellor were  jealous  of  it;  and  that  Mrs.  Stewart  might  be  got 
with  child  by  the  King,  or  somebody  else,  and  the  King  own 
a  marriage  before  his  contract,  for  it  is  but  a  contract,  as  he 
tells  me,  to  this  day,  with  the  Queen,  and  so  wipe  their  noses 
of  the  Crown ;  and  that  therefore  the  Duke  of  York  and  Chan- 
cellor did  do  all  they  could  to  forward  the  match  with  my  Lord 
Duke  of  Richmond  that  she  might  be  married  out  of  the  way; 
but,  above  all,  it  is  a  worthy  part  that  this  good  lady  hath  acted." 
Frances  Stewart  was  the  third  wife  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond. 
His  second  wife  had  died  only  three  months  previously.  It  would 
be  interesting  to  know  if  the  Duchess  reclaimed  her  husband 
from  his  intemperate  habits. 


COUNT    DE   GRAMONT  373 

of  Miss  Stewart.  After  having  raised  her  up,  and 
most  tenderly  embraced  her,  she  promised  her  all  man- 
ner of  favour  and  protection,  either  in  her  marriage, 
or  in  any  other  course  she  thought  fit  to  pursue,  and 
parted  from  her  with  the  firm  resolution  to  exert  all 
her  interest  in  her  support;  but,  being  a  person  of 
great  judgment,  the  reflections  which  she  afterwards 
made  induced  her  to  change  her  opinion.44 

She  knew  that  the  King's  disposition  was  not  capable 
of  an  obstinate  constancy.  She  therefore  judged  that 
absence  would  cure  him,  or  that  a  new  engagement 
would  by  degrees  entirely  efface  the  remembrance  of 
Miss  Stewart ;  and  that,  since  she  could  not  avoid  hav- 
ing a  rival,  it  was  more  desirable  she  should  be  one  who 
had  given  such  eminent  proofs  of  her  prudence  and 
virtue.  Besides,  she  flattered  herself  that  the  King 
would  ever  think  himself  eternally  obliged  to  her,  for 
having  opposed  the  retreat  and  marriage  of  a  girl, 

44  Rumours  had  been  constantly  afloat  that  the  King  contem- 
plated a  separation  from  the  Queen  on  the  plea  of  her  barrenness. 
Buckingham  and  other  of  his  unprincipled  advisers  and  enemies 
of  the  Duke  of  York  favoured  the  idea  of  a  divorce,  which  they 
undertook  to  carry  through  the  Parliament  and  had  Frances 
Stewart  not  taken  the  step  she  did,  there  is  no  telling  but  that 
the  report  that  was  current  both  in  this  country  as  well  as  in 
Portugal,  may  have  proved  only  too  true.  Whether  Lord  Clar- 
endon brought  about  the  match  between  the  Duke  of  Richmond 
and  the  King's  favourite  is  doubtful,  though  his  enemies  failed 
not  to  make  the  most  of  the  opportunity;  but  the  King  certainly 
thought  he  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  secret  marriage,  and  showed 
his  resentment  accordingly. 

On  the  night  that  Frances  Stewart  fled  from  Whitehall,  Clar- 
endon's son,  Lord  Cornbury,  unaware  of  her  departure,  was 
going  towards  her  lodgings,  when  he  met  the  King  coming  out 
"  full  of  fury,"  who,  suspecting  him  to  be  in  the  plot,  "  spoke 
to  him  as  one  in  a  rage  that  forgot  all  decency,  and  for  some 
time  would  not  hear  Lord  Cornbury  speak  in  his  own  defence." 
As  is  well  known,  Clarendon's  disgrace  happened  shortly  after- 
wards. The  Seal  was  delivered  up  on  30th  August  1667.  See 
Burnet's  History  of  his  Own  Time,  Clarendon's  Continuation 
of  his  Life,  History  of  the  Revolutions  of  Portugal,  1740,  Jesse's 
Memoirs  of  the  Stuarts,  etc. 


374       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES    II 

whom  at  that  time  he  loved  to  distraction.  This  fine 
reasoning  determined  her  conduct.  All  her  industry 
was  employed  in  persuading  Miss  Stewart  to  abandon 
her  schemes;  and  what  is  most  extraordinary  in  this 
adventure  is,  that,  after  having  prevailed  upon  her  to 
think  no  more  either  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  or  of 
a  nunnery,  she  charged  herself  with  the  office  of 
reconciling  these  two  lovers. 

Indeed  it  would  have  been  a  thousand  pities  if  her 
negotiation  had  miscarried ;  but  she  did  not  suffer  this 
misfortune;  for  never  were  the  King's  addresses  so 
eager  and  passionate  as  after  this  peace,  nor  ever  better 
received  by  the  fair  Stewart.45 

46  26th  December  1667— Pepys  says :  "  I  hear  this  day  that  Mrs. 
Stewart  do  at  this  day  keep  a  great  court  at  Somerset  House 
with  her  husband,  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  she  being  visited  for 
her  beauty  sake  by  people,  as  the  Queen  is  at  nights;  and  they 
say  also  that  she  is  likely  to  go  to^Cpurt  again  and  there  put  my 
Lady  Castlemayne's  nose  out  of  joint."  On  the  following  day 
Sir  Hugh  Cholmely  tells  him  "that  the  business  of  getting  the 
Duchess  of  Richmond  to  Court  is  broke  off,  the  Duke  not 
suffering  it,  and  thereby  great  trouble  is  brought  among  the 
people  that  endeavoured  it,  and  thought  they  had  compassed  it." 
On  i4th  January  1667-8,  Mrs.  Pierce  tells  Pepys  "that  the 
Duchesse  of  Richmond  do  not  yet  come  to  Court,  nor  hath  seen 
the  King,  nor  will  not,  nor  do  he  own  his  desire  of  seeing  her, 
but  hath  used  means  to  get  her  to  Court,  but  they  do  not  take." 
A  little  over  two  months  afterwards  a  great  calamity  befalls  the 
great  beauty,  she  is  seized  with  the  smallpox.  26th  March  1668— 
Pepys  writes :  "  This  noon,  from  Mrs.  Williams  my  Lord 
Brouncker  sent  to  Somerset  House  to  hear  how  the  Duchess 
of  Richmond  do;  and  word  was  brought  him  that  she  is  pretty 
well  but  mighty  full  of  the  smallpox,  by  which  all  do  conclude 
she  will  be  wholly  spoiled,  which  is  the  greatest  instance  of  the 
uncertainty  of  beauty  that  could  be  in  this  age;  but  then  she 
hath  had  the  benefit  of  it  to  be  first  married  and  to  have  kept 
it  so  long  under  the  greatest  temptations  in  the  world,  from 
a  King,  and  yet  without  the  least  imputation."  8th  May  1668 — 
Lord  Sandwich  tells  Pepys  the  Duchess  of  Richmond  has  re- 
covered from  her  illness.  "  The  King  hath  made  several  public 
visits  to  her  and  [she  is]  like  to  come  to  Court."  igth  May 
1668 — Pierce  tells  Pepys  the  King  is  "mighty  hot  upon  the 
Duchess  of  Richmond,  insomuch  that  upon  Sunday  was  se'nnight 
at  night,  after  he  had  ordered  his  Guards  and  coach  to  be  ready 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  375 

His  Majesty  did  not  long  enjoy  the  sweets  of  a 
reconciliation,  which  brought  him  into  the  best  good- 
humour  possible,  as  we  shall  see.  All  Europe  was  in  a 
profound  peace,  since  the  treaty  of  the  Pyrenees. 

to  carry  him  to  the  Park,  he  did  on  a  sudden  take  a  pair  of 
oars  or  scullers,  and  all  alone,  or  but  one  with  him,  go  to  Somer- 
set House,  and  there,  the  garden  door  not  being  open,  himself 
clamber  over  the  walls  to  make  a  visit  to  her,  which  is  a  hor- 
rid shame."  6th  July  1668 — Pepys  enters :  "  The  Duchesse  of 
Richmond  sworn  last  week  of  the  Queen's  Bedchamber."  On 
i8th  August  Pepys  saw  the  Duchess  of  Richmond  and  Lady 
Castlemaine  in  the  Park  and  they  appeared  strange  to  one  an- 
other. 30^/1  August — Pepys  goes  to  the  Park  and  in  the  King's 
garden  saw  the  Duchess  of  Richmond,  "  who  is  of  a  noble  person 
as  ever  I  saw,  but  her  face  worse  than  it  was  considerably  by  the 
smallpox."  On  gth  September  1668  Pepys  visits  the  Duke  of 
Richmond  "  at  his  lodgings  in  the  little  building  in  the  bowling- 
green  at  Whitehall,"  but  to  his  disappointment  his  wife  was  in 
the  country.  This  is  the  last  we  hear  of  La  Belle  Stewart  in 
the  famous  Diary.  Lord  Dartmouth  says :  "  After  her  marriage 
she  had  more  complaisance  than  before,  as  King  Charles  could 
not  forbear  telling  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  when  he  was  drunk 
at  Lord  Townshend's  in  Norfolk  [Raynham  Hall]."  After  her 
husband's  death  in  1672,  the  Duchess  sold  her  life  interest  in 
Cobham,  probably  about  the  year  1677,  as  among  the  Verney 
papers  (Hist.  MS.  Com.  Rep.  7,  App.  p.  468),  in  a  letter  from 
John  to  Sir  Ralph  Verney,  28th  May  1677,  is  the  following  "  The 
Duchess  of  Richmond  hath  lately  sold  her  interest  in  Cobham 
to  Lord  O'Brien,  so  'tis  believed  she  will  suddenly  own  her  mar- 
riage to  Lord  Mulgrave."  Whatever  may  have  been  the  cause 
of  this  rumour,  no  such  marriage  ever  took  place. 

In  1679,  a  young  amorous  gallant  at  Court  named  Jack  How 
boasted  of  certain  favours  he  had  received  from  the  widowed 
Duchess,  whereupon  she  complained  to  the  King,  who  appointed 
a  committee  (viz.  Monmouth,  Essex,  Sunderland,  and  Halifax) 
to  inquire  into  the  matter,  and  How  was  forbidden  again  to 
come  to  Court,  as  upon  examination  the  King  decided  that  a 
certain  letter  of  the  Duchess  had  been  forged  [see  Sidney  Cor- 
respondence, vol.  i.  pp.  TOO,  122].  For  some  years  the  once  famous 
beauty  was  in  receipt  of  a  pension  from  the  Royal  Purse  of 
£150  a  year. 

The  Duchess  was  present  at  the  Coronation  of  Queen  Anne, 
dressed  in  the  robes  which  are  to  be  seen  upon  her  wax  effigy 
at  Westminster  Abbey.  (N.B.— The  parrot  by  her  side  is  said 
to  have  been  a  pet  of  the  Duchess's  for  forty  years,  and  only 
survived  its  mistress  a  few  days.)  She  died  I5th  October  1702, 
and  was  buried  in  the  Richmond  vault  in  Henry  VII.  Chapel 


3/6       THE   COURT   OF   CHARLES   II 

Spain  flattered  herself  she  should  be  able  to  recruit,  by 
means  of  the  new  alliance  she  had  contracted  with  the 
most  formidable  of  her  neighbours;  but  despaired  of 
being  able  to  support  the  shattered  remains  of  a  declin- 
ing monarchy,  when  she  considered  the  age  and  in- 
firmities of  her  prince,  or  the  weakness  of  his  successor. 
France,  on  the  contrary,  governed  by  a  king  inde- 
fatigable in  business,  young,  vigilant,  and  ambitious  of 
glory,  wanted  nothing  but  inclination  to  aggrandise 
herself. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  King  of  France,  not 
willing  to  disturb  the  tranquillity  of  Europe,  was  per- 
suaded to  alarm  the  coasts  of  Africa,  by  an  attempt, 
which,  if  it  had  even  been  crowned  with  success,  would 
have  produced  little  good.  But  the  King's  fortune, 
ever  faithful  to  his  glory,  has  since  made  it  appear,  by 
the  miscarriage  of  the  expedition  of  Gigeri/*  that  such 
projects  only  as  were  planned  by  himself  were  worthy 
of  his  attention. 

A  short  time  after,  the  King  of  England,  having 
resolved  also  to  explore  the  African  coasts,  fitted  out 
a  squadron  for  an  expedition  to  Guinea,*7  which  was  to 
be  commanded  by  Prince  Rupert.  Those  who,  from 
their  own  experience,  had  some  knowledge  of  the 
country,  related  strange  and  wonderful  stories  of  the 

48  In  October  1664.  Gigeri  is  about  forty  leagues  from  Algiers. 
The  French  had  a  factory  there;  but  attempting  to  build  a  fort 
on  the  seacoast,  to  be  a  check  upon  the  Arabs,  they  came  down 
from  the  mountains,  beat  the  French  out  of  Gigeri,  and  demol- 
ished their  fort.  Sir  Richard  Fanshaw,  in  a  letter  to  the  Deputy 
Governor  of  Tangier,  dated  2nd  December  1664,  says,  "  We  have 
certain  intelligence  that  the  French  have  lost  Gigheria,  with  all 
they  had  there,  ^and  their  fleet  come  back,  with  the  loss  of  one 
considerable  ship  upon  the  rocks  near  Marseilles"  (Fanshaw's 
Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  347).  The  French  expedition  against  Gigeri 
was  despatched  there  early  in  the  previous  October.  See  also 
Pepys,  nth  October  1664. 

47  This  was  in  August  1664,  a  year  before  the  Duke  of  York's 
visit  to  York  (see  ante,  p.  357). 


COUNT    DE    GRAMONT  377 

dangers  attendant  upon  this  expedition:  that  they 
would  have  to  fight  not  only  the  inhabitants  of  Guinea, 
a  hellish  people,  whose  arrows  were  poisoned,  and  who 
never  gave  their  prisoners  better  quarter  than  to  de- 
vour them,  but  that  they  must  likewise  endure  heats 
that  were  insupportable,  and  rains  that  were  intoler- 
able, every  drop  of  which  was  changed  into  a  serpent ; 
that,  if  they  penetrated  farther  into  the  country,  they 
would  be  assaulted  by  monsters  a  thousand  times  more 
hideous  and  destructive  than  all  the  beasts  mentioned 
in  the  Revelation. 

But  all  these  reports  were  vain  and  ineffectual ;  for 
so  far  from  striking  terror  into  those  who  were  ap- 
pointed to  go  upon  this  expedition,  it  rather  acted  as 
an  incentive  to  glory  upon  those  who  had  no  manner 
of  business  in  it.  Jermyn  appeared  among  the  fore- 
most of  these ;  and,  without  reflecting  that  the  pretence 
of  his  indisposition  had  delayed  the  conclusion  of  his 
marriage  with  Miss  Jennings,  he  asked  the  Duke's 
permission,  and  the  King's  consent  to  serve  in  it  as  a 
volunteer. 

Some  time  before  this,  the  infatuation  which  had 
imposed  upon  the  fair  Jennings  in  his  favour  had 
begun  to  subside.  All  that  now  inclined  her  to  this 
match  was  the  advantages  of  a  settlement.  The  care- 
less indolence  of  a  lover,  who  faintly  paid  his  addresses 
to  her,  as  it  were  from  custom  or  habit,  disgusted48  her ; 
and  the  resolution  he  had  taken,  without  consulting 
her,  appeared  so  ridiculous  in  him,  and  so  injurious  to 
herself,  that,  from  that  moment,  she  resolved  to  think 
no  more  of  him.  Her  eyes  being  opened  by  degrees, 
she  saw  the  fallacy  of  the  splendour,  which  had  at  first 
deceived  her;  and  the  renowned  Jermyn  was  received 
according  to  his  real  merit  when  he  came  to  acquaint 
her  with  his  heroical  project.  There  appeared  so  much 
*  Disheartened  (Vizetelly). 


3;8       THE   COURT   OF    CHARLES    II 

indifference  and  ease  in  the  raillery  with  which  she 
complimented  him  upon  his  voyage,  that  he  was  en- 
tirely disconcerted,  and  so  much  the  more  so,  as  he  had 
prepared  all  the  arguments  he  thought  capable  of 
consoling  her,  upon  announcing  to  her  the  fatal  news 
of  his  departure.  She  told  him,  "that  nothing  could 
be  more  glorious  for  him,  who  had  triumphed  over  the 
liberty  of  so  many  persons*9  in  Europe,  than  to  go  and 
extend  his  conquests  in  other  parts  of  the  world ;  and 
that  she  advised  him  to  bring  home  with  him  all  the 
female  captives  he  might  make  in  Africa,  in  order  to 
replace  those  beauties  whom  his  absence  would  bring 
to  the  grave." 

Jermyn  was  highly  displeased  that  she  should  be 
capable  of  raillery  in  the  condition  he  supposed  her 
reduced  to;  but  he  soon  perceived  she  was  in  earnest. 
She  told  him  that  she  considered  this  farewell  visit  as 
his  last,  and  desired  him  not  to  think  of  making  her 
any  more  before  his  departure. 

Thus  far  everything  went  well  on  her  side.  Jermyn 
was  not  only  confounded  at  having  received  his  dis- 
charge in  so  cavalier  a  manner;  but  this  very  demon- 
stration of  her  indifference  had  revived,  and  even 
redoubled,  all  the  love  and  affection  he  had  formerly 
felt  for  her.  Thus  she  had  both  the  pleasure  of  de- 
spising him,  and  of  seeing  him  more  entangled  in  the 
chains  of  love  than  he  had  ever  been  before.  This  was 
not  sufficient:  she  wished  still  farther,  and  very  un- 
advisedly, to  strain  her  resentment. 

Ovid's  Epistles,  translated  into  English  verse  by  the 
greatest  wits  at  Court,  having  lately  been  published,** 
she  wrote  a  letter  from  a  shepherdess  in  despair, 
addressed  to  the  perfidious  Jermyn.  She  took  the 

*  Women  (Vizetelly). 

"Viz.  circulated.  The  translation  of  Ovid's  Epistles  was  not 
printed  until  1680. 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  379 

epistle  of  Ariadne  to  Theseus  for  her  model.  The 
beginning  of  this  letter  contained,  word  for  word,  the 
complaints  and  reproaches  of  that  injured  fair  to  the 
cruel  man  by  whom  she  had  been  abandoned.  All  this 
was  properly  adapted  to  the  present  times  and  circum- 
stances. 

It  was  her  design  to  have  closed  this  piece  with 
a  description  of  the  toils,  perils,  and  monsters,  that 
awaited  him  in  Guinea,  for  which  he  quitted  a  ten- 
der mistress,  who  was  plunged  into  the  abyss  of 
misery,  and  was  overwhelmed  with  grief  and  despair; 
but  not  having  had  time  to  finish  it,  nor  to  get  that 
which  she  had  written  transcribed,  in  order  to  send  it 
to  him  under  a  feigned  name,  she  inconsiderately  put 
this  fragment,  written  in  her  own  hand,  into  her 
pocket,  and,  still  more  giddily,61  dropped  it  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  Court.  Those  who  took  it  up,  knowing  her 
writing,  made  several  copies  of  it,  which  were  circu- 
lated all  over  the  town ;  but  her  former  conduct  had  so 
well  established  the  reputation  of  her  virtue,  that  no 
person  entertained  the  smallest  doubt  that  the  circum- 
stances were  exactly  as  we  have  related  them.  Some 
time  after,  the  Guinea  expedition"*  was  laid  aside  for 
reasons  that  are  universally  known,  and  Miss  Jen- 

"  Foolishly  (Vizetelly). 

83  With  the  object  of  trading  on  the  African  coast,  a  company 
was  formed  under  royal  patronage  in  opposition  to  the  Dutch 
settlers.  A  small  fleet  sailed  to  Guinea  in  1664  and  seized  several 
strongholds,  including  Cape  Corse  Castle,  the  settlements  of 
Cape  Verde,  and  the  Isle  of  Goree.  The  States  of  Holland 
naturally  resented,  and  as  the  animosity  increased,  Prince 
Rupert  was  ordered  out  with  a  new  fleet,  which,  however,  never 
sailed. 

De  Ruyter,  having  received  secret  orders,  appeared  in  time  to 
expel  the  English  from  their  recent  acquisitions,  excepting  Cape 
Corse.  This  led  to  150  Dutch  merchant  vessels  being  captured, 
after  which  war  with  Holland  was  declared.  A  full  account 
of  the  Guinea  expedition  is  given  in  Clarendon's  Continuation, 
p.  225.  See  also  Hume,  Lingard,  and  Vizetelly's  Gramont.  ii. 
P-  232. 


380       THE  COURT  OF  CHARLES   II 

wing's  subsequent  proceedings  fully  justified  her  letter; 
for,  notwithstanding  all  the  efforts  and  attentions 
Jermyn  practised  to  regain  her  affections,  she  would 
never  more  hear  of  him. 

But  he  was  not  the  only  man  who  experienced  the 
whimsical  fatality,  that  seemed  to  delight  in  disuniting 
hearts,  in  order  to  engage  them  soon  after  to  different 
objects.  One  would  have  imagined  that  the  God  of 
Love,  actuated  by  some  new  caprice,  had  placed  his 
empire  under  the  dominion  of  Hymen,  and  had,  at  the 
same  time,  blindfolded  that  God,  in  order  to  cross- 
match  most  of  the  lovers  of  whom  we  have  been 
speaking. 

The  fair  Stewart  married  the  Duke  of  Richmond; 
the  invincible  Jermyn,  a  silly"  country  girl;"*  Lord 
Rochester,  a  melancholy  heiress;*  the  sprightly  Temple, 
the  serious  Lyttelton;  Talbot,  without  knowing  why 
or  wherefore,  took  to  wife  the  languishing  Boynton; 
George  Hamilton,  under  more  favourable  auspices, 
married  the  lovely  Jennings;1*  and  the  Chevalier  de 

"Conceited  (Vizetefly). 

M  Miss  Gibbs,  daughter  of  a  Cambridgeshire  gentleman.  There 
was  no  issue  from  this  marriage.  In  1685  Termyn  was  created 
Baron  Dover.  He  retired  to  Cheveley  Cambs,  where  he  died  in 
1708.  See  Saint  Evremond's  Works,  voL  ii.  p.  223. 

"Elizabeth,  daughter  of  John  Mallet  of  Enmore,  Somerset- 
shire. Rochester's  runaway  match  is  thus  referred  to  by  Pepys, 
28th  May  1665 :  u  To  my  Lady  Sandwiche's,  where  to  my  shame 
I  had  not  been  a  great  while.  Here  upon  my  telling  her  a  story 
of  my  Lord  of  Rochester's  running  away  on  Friday  night  last 
with  Mrs.  Mallett,  the  great  beauty  and  fortune  of  the  north, 
who  had  supped  at  Whitehall  with  Mrs.  Stewart,  and  was  going 
home  to  her  lodgings  with  her  grandfather,  my  Lord  Hally,  by 
coach;  and  was  at  Charing  Cross  seized  on  by  both  horse  and 
footmen,  and  forcibly  taken  from  him  and  put  into  a  coach 
with  six  horses,  and  two  women  provided  to  receive  her,  and 
carried  away.  Upon  immediate  pursuit,  my  Lord  of  Rochester 
(for  whom  the  King  had  spoke  to  the  lady  often,  but  with  no 
success)  was  taken  at  Uxbridge;  but  the  lady  is  not  yet  heard 
of,  and  the  King  mighty  angry,  and  the  lord  sent  to  the  Tower. 
Hereupon  my  lady  did  confess  to  me  as  a  great  secret  her  being 


COUNT   DE   GRAMONT  381 

Gramont,  as  the  reward  of  a  constancy  he  had  never 
before  known,  and  which  he  never  afterwards  prac- 
tised, found  Hymen  and  Love  united  in  his  favour, 
and  was  at  last  blessed  with  the  possession  of  Miss 
Hamilton.67 

concerned  in  this  story,  for  if  this  match  breaks  between  my  Lord 
Rochester  and  her,  then  by  the  consent  of  all  her  friends,  my 
Lord  Hinchingbroke  stands  fair,  and  is  invited  for  her.  She  is 
worth,  and  will  be  at  her  mother's  death  (who  keeps  but  little 
from  her),  25oo/.  per  annum."  Pepys  mentions  seeing  Rochester 
and  his  wife  at  the  play  on  4th  February  1666-7. 

^George  was  knighted  by  Charles  II.  He  went  abroad  with 
his  wife  and  entered  the  service  of  Louis  XIV.  Lady  Hamilton 
as  a  widow  is  mentioned  in  Evelyn's  Diary,  I2th  November  1675. 
She  is  described  then  as  "a  sprightly  young  lady — now  turned 
Papist." 

"He  was  married  in  December  1663.  When  a  son  was  born 
the  following  year  "as  beautiful  as  the  mother,"  Comminges  tells 
us.  "All  the  Court  has  rejoiced  with  him,  and  he  looks  much 
the  younger  for  the  event" — 8th  September  1664  (Comminges  to 
Lionne),  A  French  Ambassador  at  the  Court  of  Charles  II.  p.  95. 


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